Meta Morphine
by cheddarbiscuit
Summary: It was going to happen, and that was fine, but not like this. Not with his sister.
1. Chapter 1

CheddarBiscuit Presents:

Meta-Morphine.

(I sure hope that title's not going to get me the boot.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Invader ZIM. I think I'm okay with that.

Summary: _It was going to happen, and that was fine, but not like this. Not with his sister._

_Note: I'm really sorry about the sloppy editing in this. My printer is out, and it is harder for me to catch problems on a soft copy. So, just point them out and I'll fix them as I can._

_ - upload document, and all the quotations were replaced by O's with symbols above them. So I had to fix them... aaaall of them._

* * *

Chapter one: Drawing out your DOOM.

Zim was absentmindedly testing his right arm. If Dib recalled correctly, he had damaged it playing basketball the other day. He had claimed it was merely a sprain, and had kept it in a brace for two days. Dib knew that it had healed in a few hours, because Zim acted like nothing had happened, and had sketched through three pages in his notebook, with a delighted grin on his face, as if he had just discovered he had this talent.

He was not good a faking injuries.

Dib, insanely curious, had tried to look over his shoulder. Zim had hidden the notebook against his chest and the legs in his PAK had protruded menacingly, but subtly. They had only retreated when Dib was across the room.

Zim now picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers, testing their reaction time and coordination. He then slouched in his seat, looked out the window, and began to sketch, his eyes aglow with discovery, and his tongue between his teeth in concentration. He was not paying attention to their math lesson.

Neither was Dib, really. He was too busy watching Zim. The alien was probably drawing up plans for world domination. Dib grinned. Despite the height, Zim had not actually changed much.

The height.

From what Dib had gleaned of the Irkens, they were a primarily short race. Tall Irkens were rare and shown the highest respect. And, in truth, they were physically stronger, simply because of their height. Most Irkens were of average intelligence, and so this was the rare case in which might justifiably took priority over merit. Zim was an exception. For an Irken, he was foolish, even if he considered himself brilliant.

Or perhaps he _was _brilliant.

Still, the height confused him. Dib had never learned why he had gotten so tall. He was certain it was not a robotic suit of any kind. He had never seen it short circuit or spark. It was either very convincing and completely water tight, or he was really starring at Zim, slouched over and drawing like a child.

What was he drawing? Dib leaned a little to try to get a better look, but Zim immediately straitened and turned warily, slightly, towards him. He frowned a little and narrowed his eyes before quickly turning the page.

Dib resolved to ask about the height when class was over, and passed another thirty minutes watching Zim sketch the squirrel outside. When the bell rang, Zim was one of the first students up. Dib only just managed to catch him outside the door.

"Hey, Zim?"

"Yes, smelly earthmonkey?"

It was funny. When he had been twelve, such phrases did not bother him. Now that he cared actively about impressing girls as much as he did protecting the Earth, being called a "smelly earthmonkey" kind of made him self-conscious. Did he smell presentable? Look alright? How was his hair? Dib sniffed his collar, "I _like_ this after shave... You need to stop saying things like that, Zim."

But Zim had started to walk away.

"Wait!" Dib called, trotting after him, "I want to ask you something."

"Do you want to ask me why I have not yet dominated your pathetic planet?"

"No."

He waited for the Irken to interrupt with something, but he kept his thin green lips shut. So Dib continued, "I was wondering... The Irken are short, right? Have you given any thought to the fact that you're... not?"

Zim looked down at himself and frowned.

"I mean, is it a suit? Did you alter your own DNA, because that's pretty sweet if you—"

"I _think_ it is the food." he said quickly.

"The food?"

"Yes!" Zim declared loudly, "Eat your disgusting vegetables, little earthmonkeys! You will be tall! And completely normal!"

Then he scurried away. Dib wondered if that had been a lie, the truth, or sarcasm.

This was the nature of their awkward friendship. Dib sighed and shook his head. Well, now that the cause of his height had been solved, Dib could move onto more important things. Like the drawing.

Now, he knew Zim had been getting involved more in Skool activities. One of them had been art classes. He had heard Zim had joined the robotics club a few days ago, which would be interesting, considering Dib was already _in_ that club, and the next meeting was tomorrow.

But that was not all. He had seen him outside the music room after classes had ended, his sketch book out. Dib had gone there to check up on Gaz because she was practicing with a few others, he had been wasting time in the library. Zim had looked entranced by something. So entranced his sketch remained incomplete. When he had seen Dib, he had abruptly walked off.

He had also seen Zim standing in front of the bulletin board and writing things down. Because Zim was long over due to attempt to take over the Earth, Dib had assumed all of this was simply studying to bring doom through the arts. He did not know how Irkens felt about the arts, but he was fairly certain they were either looked down upon or neglected completely.

Zim had never shown any interest in them before now.

May be he should ask sometime.

But now it was lunch time. Gaz would be sitting in the cafeteria, and she would not bothered to have waited for him. Sometimes, she was gone by the time he got there, and he wondered if she ate at all on those days.

He knew she wanted to avoid him, because he was 'Stupid, obnoxious, and made her sick' but she was his little sister. There were bullies that roamed the lunchroom for defenseless underclassmen like Gaz, and upperclassmen that stalked the edges for tasty morsels impressed by pocket change and free rides. Gaz was, in his eyes, a tasty little defenseless morsel. He had to watch out for her. What good was a savior of Earth that could not watch his younger sibling's back?

Sometimes, he even contemplated getting a SIR unit from the Irken Black Market to watch her more effectively.

Dib found Gaz sitting down, looking over some sheet music and playing an air violin.

He wanted to ask what she was pretending to play, but he did not. He knew not to mess with her when she was practicing. She huffed and mumbled a few notes aloud, slowly, pausing only to push a hair behind her ear. It was quite long now, his sister's dark hair, with a deep purple cast.

She flipped through the sheet music and starred at it for a long while, then sighed angrily and put it away.

"I know you'll get it soon."

She did not respond, just took her sandwich from her lunch bag and scarfed it down in frustration. She ate when she was angry and upset. Dib was fine with that. He would rather have a slightly chubby sister than one that cut herself or did one of the numerous drugs that were easily available on street corners around Skools.

She looked up at him as if she had sensed the word 'chubby.'

She was _not_ chubby. Not unless your definition of chubby was size four jeans and an B-cup bra.

Her light brown eyes narrowed.

Not like he _knew_ her cup size.

"What?"

"What are you staring at?"

"Just you."

"Why?" she asked sharply, "Are you sculpting me?"

"... No."

He looked down at the brown bag he had brought his lunch to school in. He could suddenly feel he was being watched, and he looked up. It was not Gaz, she had gone back to eating. He looked around.

Zim.

And he was sketching.

So, why did _Dib_ feel like he was the one that was in the wrong? He had just spied his former nemesis sketching what might be him, and he felt like he had just done something wrong. He grumbled a little and tried to eat while ignoring the not so subtle scratching of a pen. He felt terribly self aware now that he knew he was being watched.

But who was to say Zim was sketching him for a bad reason? He might just be addicted to drawing. It happened to a lot of good art students.

Was he good?

Dib suddenly had the burning desire to know. Or, rather, he had the burning desire for it to be right. He wanted Zim to be good at something. If it was drawing, it was drawing, and so long as Zim did not attempt to send subliminal messages to all of mankind in his art, Dib was happy.

He did not hate Zim. He had at one point, and he would never deny that. Zim had been a heartless Invader, until it had finally been driven into his obstinate green head that he was _not_. Zim had remained on Earth in exile, rather than return to Foodcortia. Dib did not hate him any more. The two of them had been through so much together. Another scuffle with the Planet Jackers, a few run ins with Invader Tak, the Noodle incident.

That thing with the Doughnut-dog. [1.]

Dib shuddered with the memory.

Zim did not seem to notice.

He continued his lunch, wandering down memory lane. Zim had changed. He had changed about as much as he and Gaz. The siblings had gone through regular Earthling puberty, and by strange coincidence, that had been when Zim shot up like a rocket as well. Dib had not noticed it a first, because he had always gauged his height by Zim, but the Irken came to school out of his Invader's uniform one day, and it had hit Dib like a ton of bricks. He had sported the look of a chilly academic for years now [2.]. All black jeans, colorful sweater vests and polo shirts. He had recently taken up collecting ties, as well. Expensive ones. Every second Monday he sported a new one, just as sharp as the last.

But Dib was certain the ties were just Zim... being Zim... and had nothing to do with his height.

So it was the food? What was the diet of the average Irken? Was it all snacks? What were Irken snacks made of? Something that stunted growth, maybe? The Tallest were gluttons, did gluttony make an Irken taller?

The little conspiracy theorist in him was jumping about frantically. So many questions raised by the simple fact that Zim had gotten two and a half feet taller. He wanted to ask him, surely he had the answers? He was the resident expert on Irkens by default. He _had_ to know.

Zim was sketching away, a brilliant grin on his face, hunched over to hide his work from others passing by. But he paid them no heed.

Irken diet and the sketching.

Dib had to know. He had to ask. But if he asked Zim, the Irken would give him a quick, witty answer, and Dib would learn nothing. But he had to ask. He had to.

So he blurted out, "Hey, Gaz?"

"What?"

He could not let her be suspicious of him. She would call him an idiot and would walk away if he pressed the topic of 'Zim' too much or two specifically. So he asked the next best thing, "You think Zim's turning over a new leaf?"

"I'm pretty sure he did that several years go. Ya know, when you stopped trying to kill him and just opted to ruin the Irken Empire."

Oh, yes. He had done that. Dib looked up, as if memories were contained in the air and felt himself smiling.

He had spared most people. He had spared the Tallest. He had not destroyed the planet. He had barely done anything. He could have forced the Irkens into complete submission. He could have obliterated them, but he had let them live. This was mainly because Gaz had threatened to bash his kneecaps. And he _knew_ she was fully capable of it. Even if she had only been ten at the time.

He was a regular Angel of Mercy!

A little anger flared inside him. He felt so unfulfilled now.

But she was probably right. Dib had probably scared the fight out of him. He had probably scared the fight of the entire Irken race, and had saved the universe with just scare tactics.

So, why did he feel so terrible about it?

She stood up and left, throwing her lunch away and taking her violin case with her. That, Zim seemed to notice. He pouted slightly, as if she had ruined his drawing. Dib smirked as he watched Zim sigh and turn the page. So he had been sketching both of them? Not only was he taking an interest in the arts, but he was beginning to comprehend familial bonds.

That was great! Sure, Dib had heard Zim refer to Gaz as 'The Dib-sibling' but he had never thought Zim knew what _sibling_ meant. All he had known before was the individual in relation to the whole. He had known there was a special connection between him and Gaz, a kind not found in the Irken race.

He really was turning over a new leaf.

Perhaps it was time to take their awkward friendship away from awkward and more towards friendship. The two of them could do great things for mankind together. Besides, with Gaz gone, Dib was free to be as stupid as he pleased. He swallowed the last corner of his sandwich, took a swig of soda and got to his feet.

Zim was glumly sketching now that Gaz was gone.

Dib had barely made it half way before he sighed and walked away from the lunchroom. With a little swear he followed him. "Zim!" he shouted, "Hey, Zim!"

The former Invader turned around, his false blue eyes turning suspiciously to him.

"Yes?"

"Zim, can I ask you up front what you are drawing?" Dib said, trying a little flattery, "Because I can't snoop, you're just too good and hiding things."

Zim looked at him with an expression of shock, as if he had been succeeding at hiding the fact that he had been joyfully doodling in plain sight. He looked down at his notebook, then down the hallway were Gaz had once walked, then back to the little smile on Dib's face. He said cooly, "I am just drawing your obnoxiously big Dibhead."

Even today, that pushed the wrong button. His head was _not_ big. He even checked his measurements with the average. And Zim knew Dib was anatomically proportionate. The sparkle in his blue eyes told Dib that.

"My head. Is _not_. Big." he said evenly.

Zim looked from his sketch book, hidden against his chest, to the angry glimmer in Dib's eyes. A wicked grin spread across his face, "Yes, earthmonkey. You just have very little hair for your age, and so your shiny baldness makes your head look bigger."

Then he scurried away to the art room.

"Ouch." he heard someone mumble.

"Well at least I have _ears_." Dib hissed and turned on his heel, "And my nose is not just a minuscule stub with two slits... and I'm not _completely bald_. And I can swim, too, with out steaming."

And on he went, down the hallway, muttering and cursing to his next class, which was with out Zim. It was a shame, too. Zim was endlessly amusing in science classes, because he acted as if he knew everything. The scary thing was, though, that he _did._ Dib did too, to a certain extent, but unlike Zim, he kept his mouth shut about it.

He found he was staring out the window, wishing he could sketch as freely as Zim.

He had english on his own, too. But that was okay. Zim was a terrible English classmate. Particularly when Greek tragedies were concerned. Partly because Greek tragedies involved the death of family members, and Zim's only family had been a cold, unfeeling robot arm as a smeet, and maybe GIR.

And robots did not die.

So the beauty of _Oedipus Rex_ and _Antigone_ were lost on him.

So were a lot of other things, and most things just seemed to make him sick. Dib found himself snickering. _The Awakening_ was not meant to be read by a alien that came from a tank. Neither was _The Bluest Eye._ Or... yeah, everything.

When he had to compare _Romeo and Juliet_ to _Invader Tenn conducting a series of 'invasive experiments' with a Meekrob_ just to understand the basic premise, he had split Dib's sides.

They were together for history, which was Zim was normally enthralled in, because he loved to learn the history of his enemies. (At least, that was what he said.) But instead of paying rapt attention, Zim just sketched. Dib snuck a peek with the subtly of a giant ant when he was walking over to sharpen his pencil.

A schematic of a laser gun.

Was that what he was working on all day?

No. Zim's hand paused and twitched. He knew Dib was watching. He had anticipated it. He turned around and looked at Dib, as if he was cutting in on the most important thing Zim had ever done.

"So, planning to take over the Earth again, Zim?"

His fake blue eyes narrowed.

"For old time's sake?" his human adversary offered.

But Dib knew that look. It was that old _Irkens have no need for your earthy nonsense. _It was getting more use lately. Dib remembered Zim using it in regards to a great many things, and so the abstract concept of 'nostalgia' was just another tally mark in a long list of things labeled 'Zim does not know or care.'

"Say, Zim, I was wondering if you could clear something up for me?"

"What?"

"What do Irkens normally eat?"

Zim frowned at him.

"You know, you said it was the food making you taller, so I was wondering if it really was a dietary thing..."

"The eating habits of my homeland are no concerns of yours, Earthmonkey."

Then he sharply turned away, and Dib knew better than to continue questioning. He flipped a page in his notebook and his hand shook over the page in anger, or maybe it was just that he was nervous that Dib was watching. Sensing this was a bit like Gaz and her video games, he returned to his seat to await his impending doom.

But Zim seemed to calm down enough to speak civilly to him by the time class ended. Dib expected him to answer in his usual frank, hammy manner either what Irkens regularly ate, or where Dib could shove his curiosity.

Instead he just took something from his pocket and held it out to him.

"Dibhuman," he told him flatly, probably still annoyed with his questioning, "Your sister asked me to give you this." Then he handed Dib a half sheet of folded notebook paper with the name _Gaz_ written across it in dark purple pen.

"So you're a courier now?" Dib teased against his better judgment, "Should I write a reply?"

The Irken glared at him. The light was just perfect, and so Dib could see the red behind Zim's contacts. It was quite a perfect picture of doom. He swallowed a scream of terror and said calmly, "Okay, okay, sorry." While unfolding the note. In the same purple pen and aloof scrawl was his sister's handwriting.

_I'm staying late today. None of your business. I just am. Don't wait for me. Don't bother me._

He looked back to the bearer of the news, "Zim, why is she staying late?"

"How should _I_ know, Earth-Dib? Is she my responsibility?"

Zim was right about that. Dib shrugged, "She's not going to do anything bad is she?"

Zim audibly sighed, as if Dib's brotherly concern was irrational and bothersome. "I believe there are theater tryouts this afternoon. She _might_ be attending those."

"You want to check up on her with me?"

Zim stepped back and frowned, "Where did this _we_ start, earthmonkey?"

"I dunno... Shouldn't it have been a 'we' thing for at least five years."

"It is my opinion, Dib-creature, that the only thing _we_ do is fight."

Then he walked away with a curt nod and a little frown.

Dib sighed. About once a month, he attempted to get into Zim's social bubble. Zim's bubble was not only solid steel, it had the ability to suddenly become _molten hot_. Dib, in his many attempts to strike up a less awkward friendship, would get burned, until three weeks time, when the burns healed.

It was thanks to his efforts, though, that he could call what they had an 'awkward friendship.' Zim would come to his aid when he needed it, Dib was there for him. And that was it. That had been it for five years.

And Dib wanted so much more. Like Kirk had Spock, Dib needed Zim. But at the rate things were progressing, he was getting nothing. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

Did his haircut really make it look bigger?

Was it a turn off?

If he asked Gaz, would she think he was crazy?

Yes. Yes she would. He was already on thin ice with her anyway. If he was going to confront her about her plans after Skool, he was going to be on thinner ice. He shouldered his backpack and headed down to the theater room, where he assumed tryouts were being held.

There she was, talking to some theater-types, which Dib tended to dislike because they were not _science-types_, and therefor not his crowd. They also seemed to be under the impression that all nerds were inherently friends.

But if Gaz wanted to hang out with them, Dib supposed he would learn to like them. He strode up to them and pushed his glasses up his nose. He recognized Gretchen, freed from her braces for several years now. She was taller now (they _all were_, with the exception of Mrs. Bitters, who was just _scarier_.) long-limbed and long faced, with wide, staring eyes.

"Hey Dib. Are you here to try out?"

"No." Gaz said sharply, "It's not _The Life and Times of_ _Dorkface."_

Gretchen frowned at her, "I think Dib would have made an excellent Hamlet. [3.]"

"Gaz, you want me to wait for you?" Dib said, "About how long will you—"

"I'll take as long as I want!" she said sharply.

"Okay, just give me a text and I'll come pick you—"

"I have two legs that aren't broken."

"Okay, okay." he said quickly, "But please, call me if it's dark out?"

She gave him that _I am at my strongest in the Night_ look of hers and Dib was forced to step back. Even Gretchen looked scared.

"I think you should go now, Dib."

"Okay. See you at home, Gaz."

She glared at him, arms crossed, while he slowly backed off.

Dib turned around again, this time to head to the nearest exit so he could start the drive home. He pushed his glasses up his nose again and stuck his hands in his pockets, just like he always did when Gaz scared him into submission. He continued on like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Until he saw Zim's head poking around the corner.

He saw the expression of shock and fear on the Irken's face at his discovery, and he quickly disappeared. Dib could not begin to guess where he had gone until he rounded the corner and saw nothing.

He checked the classrooms on either side of the hallway, finding that Zim was in none of them, Dib looked towards the door and could not see where the imposter-human had gotten to. He heard a little tap of metal spider-legs thumping against the brick ceiling. Of course. Of course. If Dib had spider's legs, he would do the exact same thing.

He knew where the former Invader was. He was right above him, using the legs of his PAK to press himself against the ceiling. Dib could not hear him any more. Not after than one little tap, but he knew that was the only possibility. Rather than look up and scare him out of what ever his plan was, Dib just said quietly, "Huh, must have gotten scared off. I... I guess that's another victory for Dib."

* * *

_[1.] References to two unfinished episodes. 'It Feeds on Noodles,' and 'GIR's Big Day." Tak was going to return in "Top of the Line." however these 'run ins' are other events entirely. The Planet Jackers never returned in cannon, I just sort of made that up._

_ Do research on your own time!_

_[2.] Because emo Zim is just silly, and pales in comparison to bookworm Zim._

_ What? I've seen a lot of emo Zim, and I do love me some sweatervests..._

_[3.] Because he always wears black. I believe in the script is specifically states Hamlet wears black._

Well it looks like Zim... is pretty irked.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!

*Ahem.* I'm dumb.


	2. Chapter 2

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaim(éd)) That's a Shakespeare joke...

Explanation: Significance of title? Umm, I hate to give spoilers, but the... stuff... Zim used to get taller?

He calls it "The Metamorphosis Drug." But it also makes him impervious to pain. Like Morphine.

Hence, "Meta-Morphine." This story starts out as a musing on the side effects (Dib seeing the physical changes. Zim seeing all of the changes, because its his body, but focusing on the emotional, because they are the most troubling, and the next chapter will be Gaz and behavioral changes. I honestly never thought I would be encouraged to go further than that.)

I've got two ideas for this, so I'm sort of juggling possibilities right now.

Also, I hate to be inconsistent — this story was started on a Wednesday, updates should be on Wednesday — but I have a paper due Monday and I cannot. Should not. Will not. Goof. Off. So I am updating now. I'm sorry, you'll just have to wait awhile extra for chapter three.

Also, this chapter is dumb.

* * *

Chapter two: Pilgrim's Plight

The Dib human was persistent. Zim remained pressed against the ceiling for quite some time. He admired the human for that. He admired and feared and hated him. He was fairly certain that mix of emotion formed the convoluted but necessary concept known as _respect_.

He crept down the walls again, the legs of the PAK were strained under his weight. They were not meant for bridging such gaps of the halls of High Skool. They were not meant to support one hundred and ninety pounds, either, but he had improved them.

He caught sight of his reflection.

He had improved a lot of things. He was taller. The Dib human had been clever in noticing that. He was smart to glean holes in Zim's explanations, but Zim was no liar. He told half truths. The food _was_ half of the cause. The diet of Earthlings yielded a high growth in the Irken race, even Skoodge had noticed he had gained several inches in height and respect when he was returned to Irk. But that was not all.

Human steroids and growth hormones, when combined with Irken nanobots, worked wonders on his DNA and molecular structure.

Funny how Dib had not noticed he had gotten a bit less green, but the human males did not notice such things as color. At least, Zim was certain Dib had trouble paying attention.

He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the hideous Dib peeking around the corner. He was not there. Zim looked ahead again, to where the Dibsibling and Gretchen had disappeared behind a set of wide black doors, into a little black room.

He tightened his pale green hands. The twitched and shook with apprehension. He should not. This was wrong. This was not his culture. He could, at one point, use the excuse 'for the mission' but the mission was gone. The file was burned. The new exile signed. The Empire in shambles. Zim was living in an outpost, far beyond the borders of a tattered kingdom.

And it was the fault of the big-headed human worm and the filthy, glowy Mekrob.

So, why was he here?

Why was he here when he could be back with Skoodge and Tenn, reforming the vast empire? It was his duty as an Invader to his country. But he had no way to return. Dib had Tak's ship, and Zim doubted he could fit into it. The Voot Cruiser was a poor choice. In its current state, even it it had once been a complete wreak, and was no longer in shambles, it could not clear the atmosphere.

Why was he here?

Because he wanted to be!

On the edges of the Irken Empire, he was a great deal safer. Of course, Irk was in no real danger. Their technology was great, even if their supplies and ability to sustain themselves with in their own planet feeble. He shuddered.

He just did not know anymore.

The Dibsibling walked out of the theater and looked right at him.

"Oh, hey, Zim."

"Greetings."

She was nice. Nice enough not to be called Dibsibling or Gaz-beast to her face. Nice enough to just be called Gaz. She had, when the Dib-worm invaded Irk, convinced him to spare the planet and the Empire's citizens. He owed her. Big time. And the Irken sense of pride was pleading with him to repay this debt.

If Zim ever did managed to take over the Earth, he would do her the same favor. He would spare her and her putrid race. He would even go so far as to say, if the Empire commanded him to take a human partner, he would make her his Queen. But it would never be enough. He could wait on this cold human and her descendants hand and foot for the rest of his many years (for Irken lives were long, and human lives so short) and it would be insufficient.

Suffice to say, there were few things that fascinated him as much as the Dibsibling.

He had been on this planet long enough to know that what he felt was not right. Gaz was the sister of his former nemesis. Dib would slaughter him with out restraint if he knew Zim even thought of touching Gaz in anyway. He may even take Tak's ship and destroy all of Irk. If this was not the case, Dib was a failure as a brother, and Zim would prefer he never had a reason to hold the earth monkey in low standing.

Still, there was something about the way her dark hair fell around her face that he enjoyed seeing. He did not mean to be rude when he said she felt like a bad case of molecular whiplash.

Such a complement was not given out lightly on Irk. If at all.

He was staring. Even on Irk, that was rude. He averted his eyes, only to discover he was standing in her way. He stepped aside, and soon the two were caught in the awkward shuffle that often happened between humans, because they were creatures who could not communicate with each other very well.

"You go left."

"Yes ma'am."

_Shuffle, shuffle._

Still in the way.

"Damn it, Zim!" she said, thumping him on the head, "Other left!"

_Shuffle, shuffle._

He enjoyed this little dance.

"Now you're just screwing with me."

"I'm sorry." he teased lightly, "Human customs are—"

"Being an alien does not excuse stupidity." she said placing her hands on his shoulders and sliding him out of her way so she could reach her destination. A nearby water fountain.

He was lucky she did not kick him in the knee.

But such was the nature of their cold encounters.

She pushed a dark strand of hair behind her ear as she bent over to take a drink of water. Zim was glad he was not a more basic human monkey, otherwise he would have been mindlessly distracted by the simple action, and Gaz would have destroyed him where he stood. When she straighten up and delicately wiped the excess water from her lip, he was not so fortunate. But he managed to hide the tingling sensation that took over his hands and stomach, because she was speaking, and such distractions were not meant to keep one person from listening to the other.

"You here for tryouts, too?"

"Yes."

Her eyes glimmered a little, "Why don't you audition with me?"

"What?"

"You know, we'd be an interesting Romeo and Juliet."

The _absolutely sickening_ image of Invader Tenn using the legs of her PAK to reduce the Mekrob leader to...

He shuddered. He disliked such _basic_ things, even if they were becoming part of his daily life, "You misunderstood me." he said quickly, "I'm sorry, I was not clear. I'm just here to watch."

"Oh."

Maybe he was a liar. But it was for the best. He had come to audition, but looking at her now, he changed his mind. She was human. She was not his kind. She was not his to seduce through a theatrical production. And how could she return his feelings? He was an Irken.

So, why did she look so upset?

But taking what he knew of Romeo and Juliet, he could at least try to strike up a bit of small talk. "The colors are wrong, anyway." he said.

"What?" she said, pausing at the door.

"Capluets wear red, as does Juliet. Montagues wear blue." She did not seem to understand, "The general belief around this place is that purple is your color and red it mine."

"Oh?"

"I'm no Juliet."

She suddenly started laughing lightly, evilly, "Well, then, perhaps you and _Dib_ would be Juliet and Romeo!" [1.]

He tried to laugh and not cringe.

He only managed to succeed because she was the savior of the Irken empire.

And, in truth, it _was_ a rather amusing picture. And it was a better one than Invader Tenn — erm... _fraternizing_ with the enemy, at that. A much better one. Invader Tenn could _never_ come to know he had such a mental picture. To be fair, the terrible feeling of nausea that came over him every time he saw it was punishment enough.

She turned around and walked into the Black Box Theater. It was a black room, which made the lights focusing on the stage appear brighter, and despite the constant cold of the school building, the theater was warm. It was strange to him. Irkens had lived in world of sleek reds and purples. Such contrast, black walls and seats, with a bright white stage, stunned him.

His legs refused to move. He knew what would happen. He would come only to observe, and they would pester him until he did try out. Gaz seemed to sense he was stuck between two choices. She seized the chance. "Come on, Zim." she said sharply, as if spitting upon him and his cowardice.

"I don't want to." he said, feeling very small again. Gaz raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, the loud and theatrical Zim, afraid of a little limelight?" she asked, somberly teasing, "Come on, it would drive Dib crazy."

Despite her bland tone, Zim knew she was thrilled at the prospect. He suppressed the urge to be childish and said firmly. "If you are involved in this is anyway, and if _Zim _were to become involved, I believe your brother would hurt me on principle."

"No, he wouldn't." she said darkly, "He would pay."

He laughed nervously. He never had any reason to doubt the petite savior of the Irkens. He was certain if anyone could get Dib to stand down, it was her.

But Zim knew what would happen. His kind was not accustomed to these 'theatrics.' Being out of his depth would surely cause trouble, especially if he was acting opposite the very human he owed billions of lives too. Still, as much as he insisted the town was not ready for a green-skinned Romeo, everyone laughed and said that if Gaz was Juliet, Dib would trust no other.

He was certain he knew Dib better than anyone.

And so he stubbornly refused.

He sat down behind Gretchen and Zita while Gaz and Brian took the stage. He took his sketchbook from his bag and started to draw. He had always had excellent control of his hands, just as all Irkens had latent drawing talent. It was used for drawing schematics and blueprints. They had turned their talents to war. Now, he had no reason to draw weapons and vehicles of battle.

So he drew things.

He was bored on this little outpost. He was tired of the humans and their world, but he had no choice but to remain. Drawing the humans he came into contact with could let him pretend he was one of them. Drawing the world around him was no different from studying it, the only thing was, people liked his drawings better than they did his notes. He had purpose. Drawing did not mean he was trying to conquer the Earth, and Zim was certain Dib liked that.

Zita had a bar piercing in her ear. Two quick lines on her heavily shadowed figure in the foreground and it was captured forever.

The Earth was not so bad. Gaz was there. Gaz was the closest thing he had to a friend.

She was more than a friend, though. When he had first taken the Metamorphosis Drug, it was just to make himself appear normal. He had no idea just what it would do to him aside from allow him to grow and maintain a normal height. He had been grateful to her then, but it seemed that the growth hormones had warped gratitude into something else. Something awful.

Something _human_.

He wanted to take her into his embrace and do things he was incapable of doing. His hands itched for the feelings of her hair, his arms ached for want to hold her. But it could never be. The longing and passion that Irkens were not supposed to feel were building up inside him, with no way to be released. His hands seemed to turn against him, and his palms burned, a kind of fire that could only be smothered by the feel of her skin. If she was in the room, his eyes refused to turn anywhere else.

But he could do nothing to ease these alien desires.

And so he drew her instead, his hands replicated on paper the object of his desire. Sometimes, he felt like his hands refused to draw anyone else. Every little detail he poured into her distracted him from the feelings he could not fight or alleviate, it was a little release of longing.

His hands.

Sometimes they were almost the enemy.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hands too much."

He looked up at her. She and Brian were standing apart. Aloof. Their voices were reading the lines, but there was no hint of chemistry. Zim was secretly glad. He watched her and others run though scene after scene. He watched her with other Romeo-hopefuls, each as unsure and spark-less as the next. Unsure of why, he felt better for it.

So he continued the sketch he had started, ignoring all that was around him. Gaz sat away from him, but unlike Dib, he did not care if she was watching him. He wanted her to watch and see just how he felt about her. It was the only way he could ever tell her, inadvertently.

He began to draw almost unconsciencely.

It was not right. It was not Irken. He was beginning to make choices independently of his PAK, and it felt liberating. Sometimes he even dreamed he could take it off and for once in his life be completely normal. And he would not die in ten minutes (twenty minutes, actually. The Metamorphosis drug and his own training had made him stronger.) He could have his own brief human life filled with emotional trials. But he knew it would only invite trouble.

"Give me my sin again!"

He looked at what he had drawn and he could have killed himself. He had replaced the second actor with himself, out of his disguise, in his own element. His fingers were intertwined with hers, his arm around her waist. She was leaning into him, her eyes trapped within his own.

And he felt terrible. He turned the page and did not draw again until the students were told to leave. He did not want to move, though. He wanted to remain there until he wasted away.

But he did leave. He should wait for Gaz, because she was going to be walking home, and it was late. But he did not, not at first. He was afraid of getting into deep. He was afraid of crossing the line. But he knew he should, so while he was fishing his keys out of his pocket, he turned back for a little while to see if she was standing around, cold and alone and reconsidering her need for independence.

She had not gotten out of the building yet.

So he waited a little longer, just standing there, watching, until he eventually gave up because he could not stand there in the cold anymore, and it had begun to drizzle. He turned back to his car and unlocked the door. He would wait for quite some time, just by the glass doors, so he could not miss her.

He had improved a lot of things.

One of them was tinkering. He had taken a fancy to that, for Irkens did not sleep as earthlings did, and their nighttime entertainment left a lot to be desired. So, he had started tinkering with rudimentary human technology. Such was the equivalent of the Dib human playing with leggos. Mind numbingly dull, but it passed the time, and it gave his treacherous hands something to do.

It also paid the bills. Humans were willing to pay a great deal for him to fix up their cars.

He had completed several side projects for himself over the years. One of them was combing parts of the salvaged Voot Cruiser [2.] and an old Ring Cutter Skoodge had sent him (it had been filled with spare parts from wreaked SIR units) with a old Honda from the junkyard.

It was not really a Honda anymore, but it blended in and got him from point A to point B and kept him out of the rain.

The huddled figure of Gaz walked in front of his headlights. He rolled down the window and honked. She jumped, as if, despite the contrast of his lights and the darkness, she had not noticed him.

"Get in!" he called, waving, "I'll drive you home."

She seemed to consider it, and at first think it was bad idea, but she shook her head and considered the cold and the night. Walking home alone in this cold drizzle was a much worse choice. She climbed into the seat beside him, tossing her bag down in the floor board.

"You drive this?"

"What?" he asked, "It may look like a beat up, Earthling flightless piece of junk, but on the inside it is an _Irken_ answer to road rage."

"Oh really?"

He leaped at the chance to show her what he was capable of, to show her all he had to offer, "It runs on the infinite nonsenseoleum [3.] fusion drive commissioned by Tallest Miyuki shortly before the Irken Empire commenced its expansion. This car is fast enough to outrun even the fastest boxes of bolts found on the tracks of your _left turn enthusiasts_. Military-grade rubber tires and hubcaps that feature hidden blades."

He pulled a lever and with a little _shing!_ titanium serrated edges gleamed in the headlights.

He rambled on, the expression of impressed terror on her face growing with each word, "With pure titanium enforcing under the fiberglass outer shell, this mechanical smeet is indestructible. It has the ability to..."

"I sure hope the radiator's good."

She was sharp as a tack, that one!

"Sort of." he said defensively, "The new radiator is going to come in any day."

"What?"

The human engine had needed a radiator. The fusion drive and Irken engine needed a better one. A much better one. But for driving to the Dib-human's house, it was fine. He could not hit speeds over ninety, and he could not break out the laser cannons. Nor could he use the infrared beams. He had ordered a new radiator of the old Voot Cruiser (his destroyed model) and it was due in the mail soon. The Ring Cutter's radiator was holding on, but it would not hold on much longer. It was meant for a vehicle that was kept cool by ventilation and its own speed.

She touched the seat cover, changing the subject, "What is this made of?"

"Nearly indestructible fabric."

"Oh." she said, bouncing a little, "Comfy."

"You hungry?" he asked to be polite, "Dinner's on me."

"Just get me home, thank you."

Zim chuckled a bit, "Very well."

Over the years, he had memorized the location of the Dibhuman's house. First, it was for self-preservation. He had an enemy. Said enemy knew his location. He had to even the odds. Then, it was for practical reasons. When faced with a danger he could not handle it was wise to turn to his enemy. This was how old arguments were forgotten. Dib had forgiven himself for destroying the Irken Empire, Zim, though still resentful, was in a precarious position, with no allies in a strange land. He could not win by isolating himself from the two that knew his secret. Irkens rarely forgot things, so now, even though dangers never came his way, and the Dibmonkey was not expressly an enemy, he could still find his way there. Now, of course, the house was practically a shine to the Irken race. The only reason no one came to visit is because no one could afford to travel that long.

And they were terrified of Dib.

They were cast in a faint red light, and so he turned to Gaz. His hands began to shake. She was curled up. Her jacket pulled tightly around her and her legs crossed, slumped in the seat, inspecting her nails. Why did he feel this way? Irkens were not made for love. At least, not any more.

"Played any good games lately?"

"No." she said quickly.

Silence.

"How about movies?"

"I'm not free on Friday."

He laughed, "That's not what I meant!" Unless she _wanted_ to go to the movies with him. He had to admit he grew exited at the prospect.

"... Oh." she responded in a small voice, "Sorry, I—"

"No need to apologize, Gaz." he said, turning over his shoulder for a quick look behind him to change lanes, teasing, "How far in advance _do_ I need to make appointments with you?"

There was a park. The one their classmates were so fond of, because of its one parking space between two old trees. If she had time, they could just... His hands tightened on the wheel.

Why was he thinking such things?

She laughed as he turned onto her street. Dib's motorcycle was there. So was Professor Membrane's car. He was almost disappointed to see that they were home, because if they had been gone, he could have come in side and they could have talked for a little while out of the cold and light rain. Not because he wanted to assess the earthmonkey's defenses, but because he wanted just to talk to her for a while.

Why did he feel that way?

He parked the car and shut if off, horribly aware of the loud hissing noise made by the hot Irken machinery and the over worked radiator. Gaz looked at the hood with raised eyebrows, then to him, "You want me to get you some water for that?"

"No, no." he waved her away, "The Dibhuman will be terribly suspicious of me anyway."

She chuckled and opened the door after snatching up her bag. Instead of going in, she stopped at his window and waited for him to roll it down.

"Thanks for driving me home."

"Nonsense!" Zim said in his usual hammy fashion, "The Dibhuman would kill me if anything happened to you."

She became defensive, "Its not like it is a far walk. And I can take care of myself... But I appreciate it anyway."

"Human filth crawl the streets, even in the rain." he assured her, "Still, it will only be a matter of time before he sniffs me out. I had better leave."

"Yes." she looked to Dib's bedroom window, "I suppose so. See you tomorrow, then?"

He nodded. With a little wave she turned an started to walk away.

"Gaz?" he found himself blurting out.

She turned around before she stopped, so she nearly tripped over her own feet, "Yes?"

"Did I ever thank you for saving the Empire?"

"Yes, Zim." she said, a little smile spreading across her face. That smile that said she had been expecting something else, but his continued groveling was just as nice. She chuckled, "About twice a year. I was beginning to believe you took me for granted."

"Gaz?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

* * *

_[1.] Zim _does_ wear the wig._

_-I want fan art of this. NOW!_

_[2.] Voot Cruiser was destroyed in _Those!_ (Premise, no script. (?)) An episode featuring giant ants._

_[3.] GENIUS BONUS! (Whaaaaaaat?)_

Don't worry, _Romeo and Juliet_ will probably fade out of the story pretty quick. At least, you won't sit through rehearsals. I know where this is going, an I know how I am going to get there. But now that this is done, everything can start moving, or at least get better, because I'll be doing a chapter in Gaz's perspective, and I will be in my element. (I'm a girl, after all.)

So if Dib and Zim seem to be approaching life like a couple of girls, you know why. Subsequently, anyone who wants can shout advice on the perspective of teenage males from the peanut gallery. Just don't be profane.

And am I the only one who wishes Invader Zim was longer, so that we could make a ZaGR "Umbrella" amv?


	3. Chapter 3

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

So, I was talking to the dude who loaned me the Invader Zim DVD's about my fanfiction quite a while before I posted chapter one of this fic. His first question was, "Are they saucy?"

My response: "Not... _Yet_."

I don't know, I feel like I am treading the fine line between "T" and "M" here. I don't want kids reading something they can't understand, but at the same time I want Meta-Morphine to be read by as many people as possible. If anything, I would say it was a "T+" or an "M-" but those do not exist.

What do you think? Tell me in reviews. Yes, yes that _was_ a ploy just to get reviews. I don't like a quiet peanut gallery.

* * *

Chapter three: Marinating Madness. [1.]

Her father was making a point of staying home more often these days.

"Ah, daughter. It is good to see you home."

"Hey, Dad."

The cybernetic kitty [2.] nuzzled against her legs. She knelt down to pick it up, a little static purr originated in its belly as she carried it to the bright lights of her father's workbench. She remained a safe distance away, and he remained safely behind a sheet of bullet-proof Plexiglas, keeping fumes and explosions contained, and his two children safe.

It also kept their voices out when he shut of the speakers. Which he often did, partly because they were a lovable distraction, which he could not afford. He also talked to himself while he worked, which was often late into the night. Sometimes, she feared she would wake up to find him splattered over the walls. Or in a charred heap, slumped over the desk. She wished he did not work so hard. She knew he loved his work, but he was her father, and she loved _him_.

Had he ever stopped to wonder that one night out of the year, and a few random hours at home were not enough?

Dib was stretched out on the couch, waiting for mysterious mysteries, "How were tryouts?"

"Eventful."

He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. He had not liked the way she said "eventful." And truth be told, he had not liked it either. She set the cybernetic cat down and just shrugged. She walked into the kitchen, then, for fear Dib would see the strange expression on her face. She tried not to look at any reflective surfaces, for fear _she_ would see the expression on her face.

But she could not shake the weird feeling. Even with contacts, Zim's eyes were fierce, piercing, like the sting of a wasp. Right through her heart, as silly as that sounded.

And girls did love sweater vests. [3.]

But truth be told, when she had turned thirteen (such an unlucky age!) she had begun to sit up and take notice of things besides Dib's stupidity, her Dad's constant absence, and the latest video games. The first new thing she had noticed had been other boys. She had never really taken interests in new people, but at thirteen, she had made two interesting discoveries: one, there were certain parts of her anatomy that felt _extremely_ pleasant when touched, two: the male species, though necessary, were not _quiet_ worth the trouble they caused. True, the little sensations that ran rampant through her chest and between her legs _were_ nice, but she could sooner conjure them up on her own, or picturing a girl, than find them when she looked at boys her own age.

Sometimes, she found herself watching men of college age jogging and wondering, _Why can't I know men like that? Older, more mature? Less crazy? _

Then, one day after art class, she realized that she did. She knew Zim. Things had changed at one point during middle school, and Zim had started to act like everything around his newly-altered body would shatter if he spoke to loud or even touched it. He became mysterious and reserved, and kept himself in a shell away from human suffering and filth. He certainly was not ordinary, or unattractive. He was certainly older, and aside from her father, she knew no one smarter.

Upon confessing this, she had to take a step back and ask, _I have a complex, don't I?_

Of course, if she could admit it, she was slightly better off.

But what if she was fooling herself? What if she did not like Zim as much as she though? What if it was all fake, and one day she discovered he was not actually five-foot-six, and was still the same short, cocky, obnoxious alien? She had to admit it was a possibility, after all, when she said he was older, she meant _older_. Much older. Passed changing, older.

What if she was petty and vain and emotionally inept?

"You okay, Gaz?"

"What?" she asked, "Oh, I'm fine. What made you think otherwise?"

Dib looked at her with a concerned, loving grin (that kind of grin where the eyes were worried but the mouth was turned up at one corner), and said, "Because you've been filling that glass for quite some time."

She looked at the faucet and yelped a little bit. It was only a little water. She had no cause to be afraid, but she had not even _noticed_ taking the glass down. It had been mechanical. Now the water was overflowing and pouring over her wrist to fall down the drain, wasted.

Chuckling a little, Dib flipped the switch on the water faucet off, "A bit tired, huh, Gaz?"

"Yes." she mumbled, "I must be tired."

She stared down at the full glass.

She was not thirsty. She never had been. She set the glass down, trying to hide her anger. The loud tap and sloshing and splashing that occurred right in front of her but out of her awareness told her that it did not go as planned. She grabbed a paper towel, and the intensity of the _zipp!_ seemed to echo around her.

And again, Dib asked, too smart for his own good, "You okay?"

"I'm _fine_." she jerked the refrigerator door open, it felt like she would take it off its hinges.

She was not fine. She had gotten into his car and wondered what the seats would be like against her back, while he was pressed against her chest. She wondered if he would like that. She wondered if it was just the light, or if the contacts he wore looked upon everything favorably, but her most of all. They had driven past the park and she had been tempted to take the wheel and park between those two trees that were popular with teenagers, lost in his hands and her own frustrations. She wondered what it was like to just... To just...

"Gaz?" There was an edge to Dib's voice that made her jump. God, was she talking out loud? Oh god, oh god, god...

"What?" she said defensively, holding the knife in her hand, the knuckles white.

"Why the hell are you making a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich?"

She looked down. Dib had been watching her, seated in a chair, and was now trying to look like he was not amused by her distracted antics. But the sad facts remained, one: he was about to burst into a fit of giggles, two, she had a knife's-worth of mayonnaise and was about to spread it over a bread's-worth of peanut butter.

"That is an excellent question."

"I think you better go to bed."

"No, I'm just distracted."

"Distracted by _what_?" Dib demanded, laughing with apprehension.

She tried to look apathetic, but she knew by the expression on his face that she was failing. What did he see? Did he know? Did he know it was about _Zim_? Didn't Dib inherently assume it was always about Zim?

"I didn't do to well today." she lied. She hoped he would believe she was talking about rehearsals. She had dallied where rough waters were prone to swell. That, in a way, was 'not doing well.'

"Oh." he calmed down, but was no less interested, "That's a shame."

"I... I know."

"Well, come on, Gaz, don't be down!" he took the knife from her hand, "Sit down and watch Mysterious Mysteries, and I'll make you a decent sandwich. You'll feel better."

"Okay." she sighed, looking towards the television.

He seemed so remember her tastes were radically different, and so he offered, "Better yet, I'll take you to Bloaty's."

Gaz shook her head, partly because she was terrified they would return to find their Father asphyxiated in his plastic cocoon. Partly because Mysterious Mysteries would be the only thing to distract him from her problems. She knew how valuable her secrets were. Maybe he would be fooled by her bluff. Or maybe he was not a eager to give up Mysterious Mysteries as he pretend.

Then again, all he ever seemed to do was recline on the couch and call out their mistakes. Never mind that the show's repute had fallen away ages ago. Sometimes she suspected he only did it on custom. But, despite her refusal of Bloaty's, Dib remained persistent.

"What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Nothing." Gaz mumbled, "Nothing."

She turned away from her brother's caring eyes and took a towel from the laundry room. He shrugged again, cleaning off the knife and walking towards the refrigerator. When she looked back to him, he was making good of his word to make her snack. She smiled a little, and wished for a moment he was not so attuned to the paranormal and obsessed with space. Maybe she could look at Zim and not feel bad.

She shut the shower door and let out a long sigh. The wood was hard against her back. Comfortless. She could, if she was desperate, talk to Dib. But she was not desperate. Not yet. Hopefully, she never would be. At least, she did not want to seem desperate.

Besides, what would he do if she told him she had feelings for his former enemy?

She felt drawn, then. She was her brother's sister. Yes, her brother was trying to befriend Zim, but he was failing. That was Zim's way of saying he was not ready to bridge the rift between them.

But she _had_ noticed he was nicer to her than he was to anyone else.

And he _was_ constantly thanking her for saving the Irken Empire.

She chuckled a little bit as she turned the water on. She kicked off her shoes and stripped down as the tub filled up. With another little sigh, she sank down into the bath, mumbling to herself, "Too cold."

She had been young at the time, but she knew what murder was. Dib was gentle, deep down. He was prone to over excitement that lead to rash actions that he had often regretted later. She had not been one for foresight, but in that one moment, she had decided she was going to stop him before he did something stupid. She had realized that she had to keep the blood of an entire race off of DibÕs hands. Maybe the Irkens were terrible. Maybe they had enslaved the universe, but that did not make it necessary to kill them.

It was those accursed PAKS, and Mothercontrol.

She sighed again and turned the hot water on as much as it would go.

Mothercontrol. In the hierarchy of Irken society, there were the Tallest, that gave commands and signed orders, but they were figureheads. The Control Brains were the real power on Irk and with in their empire. And who controlled the control brains? Who moderated the PAKS, making sure Irkens could not love, and never truly be happy? Mothercontrol.

Dib had somehow found out about it from the files in Tak's ship, and had set off alone one night to Mothercontrol's hiding place. Planet Dirt, the last place anyone would think to look. He was going to destroy it, and no one knew what would happen. It could have killed them all off by sending the PAKs into automatic shutdown. It could cause a reaction not unlike killing the queen ant, the remaining colony would swarm and fall into chaos. Irk held the universe in its hand. Either way, it would have caused intergalactic panic.

But she had not actually seen that at the time. She had only been ten, after all. She just saw her brother — her stupid, insane brother — about to commit genocide. She had only thought of how his voice, which already made her sick, would bemoan what he had done for the rest of his life.

When Zim came to her, demanding to know where Dib had gotten too, she had told him she did not know. He had just taken TakÕs ship and gone. The Invader flew into a panic. Having no options, it seemed, he had abducted her and tracked Tak's ship through the universe. Had it not been for Skoodge's ship, they never would have made it to Irk.

Dib. Dib and his _powers_. [4.] The Mekrob had given them to him after he came to their planet in pursuit of Zim and Skoodge. They were only trying to help Invader Tenn. He had gotten over his head. He had gone to Dirt on his own thinking his powers made him invincible.

Only problem was, they _did_. If the Mekrob leader had not taken them away, Zim would probably be dead. She might even be dead.

She shuddered. It was quiet now that the water was off. She sighed against and watched the steam drift up and cling to the mirror. Why was she thinking of such things?

Zim had told her Mothercontrol had been created many eons after the Irkens started to record their history. It had not meant much to her then, but she was sixteen now, and a lot of questions had raised themselves. Just how old was the Irken race? What had they been like before the creation of Mothercontrol? Why did they create something to rule them? Had they been fond of art and love, just as they were devoted to science today? Had Mothercontrol's programmer been so cruel that he had wanted to stamp out joy, beauty and love?

"Why would anyone be like that?"

A life without love was terrible. She knew that. She had barely lived with a father. She had never known her mother aside from 'she's in a jar somewhere" and Gaz had never known if that was real or a joke. She loved her brother, and for some reason, she hated it, because she also cared a great deal about Zim.

But she had spent a year in space with him [5.].

And she had never had to explain that long absence.

It was good that she was only ten at the time, otherwise, it would have been very awkward.

She shuddered again. Their Father had come up with some sort of excuse. That they were visiting Zim's homeland and studying abroad for a year. No one had checked his story. He was Professor Membrane. No one questioned him.

Zim was not so bad. He could have thrown Dib into the void of space during the return trip. He could have done all kinds of unspeakable things. But he did not. After that, things had changed. Zim had accepted his life of exile. Dib had agreed Zim was not evil, and did not deserve to be exposed and dissected. The two had stopped fighting. They stopped speaking. They both turned to her for friendship. Dib because he was her brother, Zim because she had saved his people from extinction.

And because, once or twice on that long trek though the stars, she had told him she never thought he was all that bad. Bad at being evil, yes, and to her, that was the same as being not evil.

"But does failing at being bad _really_ make one good?" she asked herself, staring up at the shower faucet. He had tired to take over the Earth countless times. He had failed. Which should she consider more in her final judgement? That he had failed, or that he had tried in the first place? "Or does it make them even worse?"

Not only was he wicked, but he could not even succeed?

Then she felt bad.

Then again, when Zim did something good for the Earth, even if it was only inadvertently, he _did_ succeed. He was smart, and he did not fail at everything. He was practically their High Skool's potential valedictorian (sometimes to her brother's chagrin, sometimes he was happy for him). He had the potential to be a good person. Maybe he already was, just too reserved to use his capabilities.

"Why is he so drawn in to himself?" she mumbled.

Everyone admitted it was _not_ like Zim. Sometimes they caught glimpses of the colorful personality they used to know, but those times were rare. He had not had an outburst in quite some time.

She frowned.

Zim had been a nuisance. Twelve months in space had proved that. He kept her in a cryogenic freeze most of the time, because there was nothing for her to do, and he seemed to be aware he was getting on her nerves. But, every now and then, he took her out and they would talk, because space was lonely, and he needed to make sure she was not getting cryogenic sickness (which was essentially a type of freezer burn combined with gangrene.) He may or may not have made sure Dib was all right as well. She had never bothered to ask him, because she assumed he was not.

But then again, Dib had never come down with cryogenic sickness, so Zim must have been monitoring him, too. Dib never said anything about it. Then again, neither did she. She would talk to Zim about it first, if curiosity threatened to kill her, because it would probably only make things worse, telling Dib that Zim had given her medical examinations when he had not shown Dib the same kindness.

But, they would talk, that was the thing that got at her. It had been brief. Slight. They had never said much. Maybe she would eat something (she was always hungry when she came out of the chamber) and maybe he would just leave GIR to watch her.

The fact remained, they were not friends. She had never been one for making friends. Zim was no exception, and she was fairly certian he was the same way. Sometimes, she had random urges to be his friend. But it never got very far. He would slip away, emotionally, and their conversation would be come stressed and thin, like he was putting on a pretense of distance. Then, she would remember why they rarely associated with each other. He was obnoxious at first, before his change. Later, he did not say much.

She was worried about him, even if she never said it. She was worried about him like she worried about Dad. Like she worried about Dib sometimes. Zim was different, though. She was attracted to Zim, and she could not figure out why aside from she simply _did_.

She wondered what it would feel like if she stroked his antenna.

She could have slapped herself.

By no accounts did it make any sense. But, she supposed love was not supposed to make sense. Maybe that was why the Irkens abandoned it. She stepped out of the tub and wrapped the towel around herself. She felt better now. Zim was not like that. Irkens did not love. So, certainly lust was an unknown concept to him. It was reassuring, in a cold, cruel way. It would keep her from voicing her feelings and making a fool of herself. It would keep a new feud from springing up between Zim and her brother.

He was nice to her, but he would never be that nice. And she was fine with that. She was just fine with that.

Only she was not.

"I'll _grow_ to be fine with it." she told herself firmly, looking at her amber eyes in the mirror as she combed her hair. She looked at the draining tub, the water was spiraling downwards, and she suddenly thought, quite stupidly, of how nice it would be if her emotions could wash down the drain like exfoliated skin, and the filth accumulated over the day.

She walked to her room, still swathed in only a towel. She shut the door behind her and went to her dresser, taking out a tanktop and flannel pants to sleep in. She tossed them down on her bed and turned to the curtains, making sure they were shut. She laid the towel down beside them and picked up a bottle of nail polish from her nightstand. As one would expect, she began the tedious work of painting her right hand with her left. Stroke by stroke, her plain nails were coated in dark violet, some of her skin, too, but she would always wipe it away.

It distracted her from Zim.

Damn the loveless alien.

She blew on her nails until she was light headed, but knew they were not dry. Not like she really cared. It distracted her from a great many things. Her father, too. How she could come down stairs and find he had accidentally fried himself, and Dib would be watching Mysterious Mysteries, and he never would have noticed.

But her father was still the picture of scientific perfection when she walked down stairs agian, and Dib had gone to his room. She shrugged and decided to make herself a sandwich (because she had forgotten about the first one, and how poorly it turned out.)

But, yet again, she was distracted.

Zim could have auditioned with her, just to be nice. Sure, they were not really friends, but she was more comfortable with him that anyone else. Dib would never have to find out, unless he had gotten the part, and even then he could have always turned it down.

And surely that sketch had not meant _nothing?_

Zim had not even noticed her watching over his shoulder. Not like he noticed Dib. She felt a tingle of exitement run through her chest. Zim had dreams. He had dreams he wanted to make a reality, but for some reason refrained.

If they got the parts, it _would_ be a reality. She giggled as she spread grape jelly over a slice of bread. Would he forgive her for taking advantage of him? Or would he realize soon enough just what playing Romeo and Juliet would encompass, robing her of her chance forever?

Her face fell.

Was that any kind of way to think about it? Her "chance" of a first kiss in a high school theater production? That was terrible. It was awful. She drove the knife into the second jar and angrily smeared its contents over the second slice of bread. She starred outside to the street lights a while, looking at her own angry expression in the glass.

She was not much to look at.

And that was okay.

Only that was a lie.

And she hated it.

And she hated Zim. She hated Dib for obsessing over his true identity, and she hated herself for being drawn in the middle. She hated Dib for acting like he knew more than her, and running off to destroy the Irken race like he was in charge of life and death. She hated the Mekrob for giving him those damn powers, and taking them away to leave him at the mercy of Irken soldiers.

She did not value life. She did not even care about it. Hang peace, what had it ever done for her? Why had she not just let Dib kill them all and let him live in misery for the rest of his days?

She felt bad for thinking that. She closed up the jars, not really looking at them and sighed. It only proved there was trouble to be made in thinking. There always was, and always would be. Philosophers were killed for thinking. Disasters were caused because someone _thought_ about their first guess, and of how it might be wrong. And she hated that, too.

She took a bite of her sandwich. Grimaced, gaged, and spit it out. Half confused, half furious, she looked at the counter and wondered, "What the hell went wrong?" Then, she learned a valuable lesson.

Salsa verde did not complement grape jelly.

"Daughter, is everything alright?"

She turned around and saw Professor Membrane standing at the kitchen door.

"Everything is fine, Dad." she lied.

She looked down, suddenly a little girl again. It was almost as if she did not want to confess she was growing up, for fear he would start to realise she was going to leave before he got to know her. He had his work. It was wrong for her to distract him over such little things. He could be saving the world in the time it took for her to complain about adolescent boys (a topic she was certain her father did not care too much about.)

But— But there he was! He was right there, willing to talk to her. He was concerned. He may not be a very expressive man, but he knew what problems emotions caused, he knew the _importance_ of love, even if he could not show it. He was her father. She had spent her life not talking to him. She had spent her life letting him focus on his work. He was her father and she needed him.

She never denied that. Never. She had just ignored it.

But she needed him.

"Dad?" she exclaimed looking up from the floor. She saw that he had not moved from the threshold. Under his high collar, she saw a little rise in his cheek. He was smiling. He held his arms out to her, and she could not help but cry and run to him, "Everything's not fine, Dad."

* * *

_[1.] He he... Marinating... Saucy... Food humor._

_[2.] From the Moopiness of Doom (recorded, unfinished). _

_[3.] that you for you, Sideos._

_[4.] Dib was going to be named ambassador to Mekrob. One can easily say the Mekrob really _did_ give him powers, just like they did in "Dib's wonderful life of Doom." These powers could have come into play in "Invader Dib" which Gaz is remembering at this point._

_- I should probably write that at some point._

_[5.] Six months getting to Dirt. Six months back._

_- But mostly in a freeze._

* * *

Yeah, anyway, next time you see this, it will probably be an "M." Just, ya know, a heads up.

Completely unrelated:

You guys remember that paper I mentioned in chapter two? Remember the eternal plague of O's that haunt my fics instead of quotations? Well, guess what happened when I opened the Appleworks word processing document in a Word Pad?

ALL OF THE QUOTATION MARKS WERE REPLACED WITH: | | _THOES THINGS!_

ONES AND ZEROS? ITS A FRIGGEN CONSPIRACY!


	4. Chapter 4

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

My spell check keeps insisting "Dib" is "Dibbles." I have no idea what that means, but I think my computer is on to something there.

Go forth with a warning: Lots of swearing in this chapter. As always, if enough of you say the word, I will gladly change the rating.

Please, If you feel it needs to changed, for God's sake, _tell me_. I am treading water out here, guys. Throw me a rope!

* * *

Chapter Four: Pandora's Sketchbook.

Dib knew what the after-effects of tears looked like, swollen eyelids, eyes that were not white but red. He had watched Gaz getting her coffee in the morning for those exact symptoms. One could even say he watched her obsessively. But she was his sister, and he was concerned. He had heard her mumbling to herself in the bath last night, and he was certain it was about Zim.

And not in the way he _always_ assumed it was about Zim.

She rubbed her eye. The skin around it was red and swollen, the blood vessels were irritated and glowing. She was trying to hide it. She caught him staring and she brushed her bangs into her eyes again.

But Dib was a good brother. A respectful brother. He did not say anything. Gaz was not a talker (at least, not to other people, herself was another subject entirely). She would brood over her own problems and leave him in comfortable darkness. But Dib did not mind. He could watch and wait and be perfectly fine.

Dib was not a _blind_ brother. He had seen things. He had seen the car drive up to their house and he had seen her get out. He had even seen Zim in the driver's seat. He had not heard what words had been spoken, but he _had_ seen them talking.

So, he may not _know_ it was about Zim, but he had seen enough to _assume_ it was about Zim.

But as he watched Gaz strap on her helmet and felt her arms slide around his waist, he did not say anything. He was too busy wondering anyway. Had Zim doubled back and gone to the auditions? Had he made a fool of himself? Most likely. But that was not enough to make her cry. She was used to Zim and his antics, even if they had declined as of late.

Maybe it really was just that tryouts went bad.

"No one insulted your acting, did they?" he asked at the first red light.

Because if it was Zim, Dib would kill him.

"No."

And the next red light, "Was Zim there?"

"Why is it always Zim with you?"

Before she could chew his ear off, the light turned green and her words were lost in exhaust and the roar of the engine. Her tone had been diffrent. She had sounded like he had hit the nail right on the head. Under the dark blue visor of his helmet, Dib frowned. Was it Zim?

Well, what was wrong with him? Yesterday Dib had no qualms with him, but now that Gaz was a little blue, he was on edge and pointing fingers at the Irken? Why? Because they took a drive together?

Zim might have just done something nice on a whim.

But Dib could not take that, even if he knew first-hand Zim was capable of favors and kindness, he was still alive because of it. But Dib's intuition told him something was amiss. Something told him there was more to it than just random acts of kindness, because Gaz was not random. Not considering the thick and uneasy past between the three of them.

Maybe he was just trying to bridge the gap?

By using Gaz?

Well, why was that wrong? Gaz was his sister, and Zim was too wary to approach him directly. That made sense, then, that he would go to Gaz and not him. Gaz had helped him out at least twice that Dib could remember. Zim was making advances were he had already covered some ground. He was just trying to patch things up in his own way.

But what if that was not it?

_It is_. He reassured himself, watching Gaz walk into High Skool.

_What if it isn't?_ he argued back.

_ It is._ He knew he had nothing to fear. Even if he was not looking out for Gaz, he knew she was looking out for herself. He just worried for the sake of worrying, because she _was_ his little sister. She always would be. So, maybe she had Zim watching out of her, too?

Why was he so jealous? Perhaps he was just concerned for her. Was there something he was not seeing? Something he had missed? No. Who knew Zim better than he did?

He parked his motorcycle and straped the hemlet to his bag before straitening his hair in the mirror. Was Zim right? Did this haircut make his head look bigger?

_Gaz._ He reminded himself. _You're concerned with Gaz, not your hair._

He straited himself up and walked into the building. He had pestered Zim quite a bit yesterday, but there were new questions today. Did Gaz confide in him? Did he know why she was upset? But knowing Gaz, she had either said nothing, or had made Zim swear to secrecy. And knowing Zim, Dib would be told to shove off.

Zim was seated where he normally was, but as strange coincidence would have it _he_ looked upset as well. Dib, for a brief moment, was at a loss, until he tried a cheap shot on Zim's latest and zaniest tie.

"You look like you stepped right out of the seventies."

"What?"

Dib smiled weakly and gestured to the purple and electric blue paisley pattered tie that peeked out at the world from under a plum sweater vest and lilac shirt. [1.] The human turned back to the white board and sighed heavily. He had gotten the Irken's attention, at least.

"You seem... depressed." Zim observed, "What is wrong, Earthmonkey? Tell Zim."

"What?" Dib asked, "The tryouts... Gaz did not think she did to well."

Zim's expression suddenly changed from indifference to shock in a heartbeat. Before Dib could ask what was troubling him, his green features smoothed over and he said, "Your sister's power to bluff and act is unrivaled."

"What do you mean?"

Zim frowned a little, "She's saved lives, Dib. You mean to tell me she thinks she is a poor actress?"

"Wow, Zim, I never thought you would complement her."

He simply shrugged.

"Were you there?"

"Yes."

"Was she any good?"

"I suppose so."

Then there was silence, Zim turned so that both sides of his sketch were guarded by the wall and he was facing Dib. He could tell by the fact that the Irken never looked up that he was not drawing him, but that did not make him any less curious.

"What are you drawing?"

"Nothing important."

"Are you coming to the robotics club meeting?"

"I... I might." he said warily.

More silence. Dib turned his eyes to the numerous propaganda posters around the room. President man was assuring them everything was "a-okay." Only problem was, Dib had a hard time believing it. At least, not when Gaz _and_ Zim were on edge. If there was ever a sign of trouble, it was when both of them were uneasy.

"So, what's your problem."

"What, earthmonkey?"

"You don't look too joyful today, either."

"My hands are traitors." It was whispered so softly Dib barely heard it.

"What?" he perked up and looked towards the Irken.

Zim seemed to realize what he had just said. He looked at Dib, "I... I mean, they hurt." he said, "So much drawing."

"Maybe you could take a break and let me look?" Dib asked playfully.

He looked down at his hands as if they made some horrible transgression and shook his head. Then he pushed further back into the corner and stopped drawing, as if Dib's very presence was making him uncomfortable. Dib tried his best to seem non-threatening, but eventually Zim closed the sketchbook and took out his homework.

The silence continued as the day continued. Zim said nothing, but seemed to have things to say. He would open his mouth and take a breath, only to look at Dib and deflate. Whenever Dib asked what the problem was, Zim just shook his head and walked away, clutching his sketchbook to him.

Until gym. Everything came to a screeching, violent, loud halt at gym.

Zim always changed out of everyone's sight, everyone called it a quirk, Dib called it self-preservation. He would leave his things, and they would remain undisturbed, because no one wanted to cross him, even if Zim was not really a threat anymore. He left his notebook in plain sight, assuming no one would touch it, but curiosity was beginning to kill Dib, bit by bit.

But others were around. He could not break Zim's privacy in the presence of others.

So he invented an excuse to leave.

He did not wait in the hallway outside the gym, though. Then, it would be obvious to any passer-by he was snooping. The locker rooms had back doors, though. They were always locked, which put a hole in Dib's plans, because the interval of time it would take for him to run back to the front door would be too long. Some one could have walked in, and he would have to invent an excuse to remain, other than changing his clothes.

He waited outside the building until the noise stopped and it was quite inside, and tried the door, hoping for some miracle for it to be unlocked.

It was not.

Not one to be deterred, he took the long way to the front door of the locker rooms and slipped in, avoiding everyone else. He checked every inch of it. Every corner. Searching for Zim, or anyone who might still be around. No one was there. No one. Dib took a breath. Feeling half as if he was going to discover the Arc of the Covenant, half as if he were opening Pandora's Box, he turned to the sketchbook.

He was alone. Zim would _never_ know.

It was a plain thing, common, the likes of which could be found at any store. It lay with a pencil bookmark, just out of his grasp. If he leaned over, uncurled his fingers, he would 'accidentally' flip it open to the marked page.

He looked towards the door. He could do it. He could. Then he could close it again and it would never have happened. He pushed his glasses up his nose, sliding towards it. Something gripped his stomach, then. "No!" he said turning away, "Zim needs to know he can trust me."

But that notebook was calling to him. It was the answer. It had to be. Dib bit his lip, then cleverly dropped his glasses down, right on top of the sketch pad and stood up, "Oh, damn!" he exclaimed, 'fumbling' for them, making sure he picked up the pencil and opened the sketch pad. Then, he picked up his glasses again and put them on, looking at the sketch book.

A sketch of a robot for a science fair project.

Well that was boring.

He turned the first page: A schematic of GIR.

Another page: a map of the pentagon. Dib would care if he was not so curious.

A drawing of Minimoose, floating around with a tea tray on his head, and Skoodge, drawn form memory. Skoodge had moved out years ago. Invader Tenn was drawn as well, she had never set foot on Earth.

A sketch of him, a soft smile on his face, cleaning his glasses. His hair a mess. It was black and white and barely worth mentioning.

Gaz, playing the violin. Done with such care Dib could see that individual lashes had been drawn.

Gaz, curled up with her head on the lunch table, cuddling with a little smile on her face into her sweater.

Gaz, just sort of sitting there, only her head and shoulders. Each facial expression was captured around her. An angry Gaz, and bored Gaz. Sad, happy.

Gaz reading.

Gaz painting.

Gir and a squirrel were in the upper left corner. The still life was angrily crossed out.

Another schematic of Gir, labeled. A schematic of a lazer gun. Another page trying to meld the two.

Gaz playing the violin again, this time, her hair was up. Zim seemed to be paying special attention to her neck.

Gaz and Zim as Romeo and Juliet. She was falling into his arms, a light smile on her face. It looked like it had come from yesterday's tryouts. Zita and Gretchen were in the foreground.

Gaz painting her nails after a bath.

"Lot of my sister in here." he observed absent-mindedly, turning the page, "That last one was kinda creepy."

Wait a minute!

Dib flipped back. There it was, sure as shit. Gaz, seated at her vanity, painting her nails. He turned to the back of the page, wondering if some sort of explanation was there. Nothing. Nothing at all.

But he did not need and explanation. He knew what it meant. He shut the sketchpad and set it back down, staring at it as if it were some terrible thing. At it was! God, it _was_. It was _a nude sketch of his sister_. Sure, nothing was shown, but Dib knew, _he knew_, that Zim had not just made up an exact copy of the birthmark in the middle of her back, and an exact copy of her entire room, on simple coincidence.

He nearly screamed in anger and shock. He had been in her room. He had been _right there_. Watching his sister and drawing her while she put on her nail polish. Maybe it had been a video, maybe he had been dangling outside her window cloaked with some device by his PAK. Dib could not tell which one was worse.

And what if it was some high-quality telescope? What if Zim was sitting in the comfort of his own home and spying on her?

He slipped on his sneakers and ran out of the locker room, the sketch book in hand. Zim was standing there, watching the others play basketball, holding his wrist as if he remembered the injury. Dib was suddenly in the mood to strangle him. He would suffer more than simply an injured wrist.

He had driven her home, and she _had_ been in a distracted state. She _had _been mumbling to herself about him. She _had_ cried that night. What if Zim had done something to her? Something she was too ashamed to tell him? Or had she been trying to protect the little bastard?

His teeth hurt from being pressed together.

Zim looked at him, "Is... Is everything alright, Dib?"

"Who do you think you _are?"_ he demanded.

The exiled, failed Invader stepped back, his instincts kicking in, "I... I'm afraid I do not quite understand."

Dib could not take it anymore. Zim was not clueless. Zim was not stupid. He knew what he had done, but before he punched his ugly green mug, Dib decided to give him fair warning, "My _sister_!" he exclaimed, "What do you take me for?"

"... Oh." Zim said.

Then he noticed the sketchbook in Dib's hand, and a look of pure dread and disgrace spread from his eyes down to his hands. He clenched them tightly infront of him as he looked down at the floor, "Your sister... I ... I'm sorry, these emotions are new to me and I—"

"Cut the crap you stupid alien!"

He flipped through the pages until he found the sketch of his sister. Everything was perfect, from the colors to the little bits of herself that decorated her space. It was sick. It was disgusting. Dib tore out the page, then for good measure, the one where he dared to draw himself with her. He wanted to rip the all out, as if by tearing the pages he could tear the feelings from ZimÕs soul. But it seemed as if that page were too strong, or his hands would not work, because the other pages refused to yield.

He threw the sketchbook in Zim's face, the pages fluttering like broken wings, the metal spiral cutting a small gash above his eye.

The Irken jumped back, clearing a few rows in the bleaches. He landed in a defensive crouch a few feet away from Dib. His eyes bright and pale, his green skin taking on undertones of white fear and dark shame.

"Come down here and settle this like a _man, _Zim."

The coward shook his head, "No. I—I don't want any violence."

"If you were still two feet tall, I'd crush you like the fucking bug you are!" Dib shouted, chasing Zim up the bleachers. He quickly slipped away from the human's reach again, breaking his fall on the gym floor with a quick somersault. He turned and looked back at Dib, standing there, waiting to see what he would do.

"Please, there is no cause for us to fight."

He shoved the Irken away with a quick, hissed, "Stay away from my sister!"

He seemed to understand. He picked himself up off the gym floor and dusted himself off. With a little sigh he said, "Alright, fine. I just assumed you would be glad to know I was reaching out to your pathetic race for emotional support. My mistake."

"But not my sister."

"You should be pleased that her relationship to you means nothing to me."

Dib slapped him with the back of his hand, the sound echoed across the gym and the feeling rang on his skin. Zim had held his ground, but had twisted to minimize resistance and pain. Dib watched him straiten up, expecting him to fight back, so that he could work out this boiling, blind anger. It was frothing in his muscles, and every bit of him snapped and barked like a pack of wild dogs, fighting to be the first to draw blood.

Dib's hand just tightened into a fist, and he did not say anything. Zim looked towards the door and started running. The Human cursed and followed him, tearing through the empty hallway, each footstep echoed like a gunshot. Heads poked out of classrooms, but by the time anyone noticed what was going on, it was too late. Dib had Zim had already flown past, hideous accusations streaming from the Human's mouth, smearing the names of the Irken and Gaz as well.

Zim prayed she never heard them.

He pushed open the doors leading to the back courtyard and climbed up the storm drain to the roof. Dib followed, but slower. Zim had always been faster. His lightweight, diabolical anatomy allowed him that chance to save his pathetic hide. Dib cursed as his eyes cleared the ledge to see the Irken turning around, planning his best escape route. He chose it by the time Dib got to his feet again, but Dib was able to head him off, and the two collided by the west wing of the Skool.

They fell together, a swearing, tangled mass, scraping their shoulders against the pavement. Zim broke free using the legs of his PAK, and he stared at Dib on the ground for a moment before setting his feet on the ground again. He looked at his hands for a moment, then back at Dib, what appeared to be genuine tears in his eyes. Fear and shame were replaced with resignation. He looked towards the window, and Dib followed his eyes.

Gaz.

She was watching. Her eyes wide with rage and concern, beating against the glass and screaming something. What ever it was, Dib could not hear it. She quickly turned her gaze back and forth between the two of them, until her eyes fixed on him and he saw her mouth for the word, "Don't!"

Let the traitorous bitch watch!

Dib jumped to his feet again and grabbed Zim by his collar. He would strangle him by his stupid, flamboyant tie if he were still wearing it, and part of Dib wished he _had_ waited until gym class was over so he _could_. Another part of him, the part that was screaming _'the dirty bastard stalks your sister!'_ just wanted to beat him to a bloody, alien pulp, until Human and Irken blood were mixed, but not in any unholy half-breed him and his whore of a sister dreamed of creating!

"I'll _kill_ you!" he screamed again, another blow connecting with his alien jaw, "I will fucking _kill_ you."

He rammed the failed Invader into the wall, knocking his wig askew and his left contact lens out. A second shove against the wall and the window broke, glass shattering and falling around his shoulders and cutting his neck. Green, Irken blood stained his white gym shirt and the cuffs of Dib's navy windbreaker.

He threw Zim down and kicked him in the stomach. He had never really learned Zim's anatomy, but he was pretty sure from the earsplitting scream that ripped from his mouth that he had hurt _something._ And the little bitch just took it, that was the sick part. It did nothing to quell Dib's anger, he seemed to make it worse, every pathetic, defenseless move the Irken made only added more fuel to the fire.

"Come one, you stupid fucker!" he eventually shouted, "I _know_ how despicable you can be!"

He shook his head from the ground, and gasped a desperate, rasping, "... Never!"

"Fight back!"

Because he wanted Gaz to see that Zim was awful, and Zim laying there and taking a beating was not getting the proper message across. He looked to the classroom window. Gaz was gone. She was running down the hall, shoving administrators and spectators out of the way as she ran to stop him.

Dib would not let her stop. No. What power did she have over him? _The little bitch!_ his mind screamed, _The fucking slut!_ He would beat the crap out of Zim on his own terms, not hers.

He looked back at the Irken, who must have assumed Dib was done with him, because he was sitting up, now pressing his hands against the brick wall and calmly drawing himself to his feet. He took his contact and wiped it on his bloodied shirt, until most of the dirt was gone and he put it back in. He straitened his wig and said nothing.

"I'm not done with you."

He kicked him down again and rammed his foot against Zim's ribs. He felt a sound crack and the Irken screamed through clenched teeth.

"Stop it, Dib!"

With a shout, he turned around and slapped the little whore so that she fell beside Zim. Normally, she would not fold up under a physical strike, but she had not expected it from him. Zim watched her fall, a weak arm vainly reaching out to stop her sudden impact with the wall and her rough slide down to the ground. She threw herself over him, cradling his head in her lap and covering his injured ribs with her arms.

"It's okay." she whispered, "It's okay."

And suddenly, Dib had realized what he had done. He watched them huddled together before him, her tears falling into his cuts and his hands tightening around the fabric on her jacket, silently bearing the pain. He took a step back. His voice was hoarse from screaming obscenities and threats to the person he was trying to call his friend. He had called his own sister a whore. He had seen Zim as little more than a lifeless puppet. An inhuman, emotionless thing.

Because of what? A sketchbook he never should have opened? Did anyone murder Pandora for opening her box? A sketch or two? What were they? Okay, maybe Zim _was_ obsessively drawing her. But had he ever hurt her? Dib had no proof of that.

"I'm sorry." he heard Zim whisper, "I'm so sorry."

He backed away slowly, and ran, unable to look at the destruction he had caused. Sure, Zim would heal up in a few days. He would be fine, physically, but that did not make what Dib had done any less terrible. He stayed in empty rooms for the rest of the day, because he knew Zim was laying in the nurse's office, and he did not want to face anyone. He hid under the bleachers when there was no other option.

Zim would never forgive him.

Gaz never would, either.

The final bell rang and Dib wondered how she would get home, or even if she would be home when he got there. He waited for a long time, until he was sure the robotics club was in session and the hallways were cleared. But he did not want to go. Zim was supposed to be there and Dib had been so looking forward to working with him. They would never be able to pool their talents. Not now.

But he dried his eyes on his bloodied sleeve and crawled out from under the bleachers to the locker room to change his clothes. He had to go. Maybe Zim would be there. Maybe he would forgive him. He had forgiven him for too many things already, though.

Dib walked into the robotics lab, and everyone looked at him as if he were some sort of killer, but no one said a word about that did not mean Dib stopped feeling miserable.

Zim was not there.

Gaz had left, too.

* * *

[1.] That was for _yooooooooooou, Sideos!_

_Ugh! That did not turn out as perfect as I had planned. I wanted to have, like, a long, epic chase scene, the kind from the first episode, but at the same time I actually had to get some events out of the way, and who wants to read two chapters of Zim getting the shit beat out of him?_

_- Well, in my current mood, _me_._

_Some justification for Dib's snap: Ass-kicking runs in the family._

_-"So, Membrane can kick ass, throw down, and smack a ho?"_

_-"... Perhaps."_

_My ego demands a sacrifice. Give me reviews._


	5. Chapter 5

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

Woo, Mama! You guys seemed to _really_ like that last chapter! Like "Five reviews in two hours" like it. Which is cool, because at the end of the week, when I normally have five reviews, I got _ten_. Man, I feel loooved.

Also: I have finished drawing up the story line. Sort of.

* * *

Chapter Five: Understanding of Insanity

_OBEY_.

Zim looked away from the poster and shuddered.

_It's a-okay, folks._

That did not help, either.

He stared down at his notebook. It was not okay. The Dib creature was furious with him. So mad that when he had ceased to be a decent target, he had turned on his sister. It was his hands. The hands that betrayed him so he could not even protect her. They were traitors and thieves. They had stolen his repute and lost his trust.

They were not the hands of an Irken Eliete. They were the hands of a monster and a coward.

He had changed his shirt when he was certain he had stopped bleeding, but now the lilac collar was a disgusting color, not quite pale purple, not quite bright green. It was probably ruined— a stained, strange testament to his identity and his crimes.

The bell rang, sending a sharp pain through his injured head that lasted for only a few seconds, and then the nurse's office was quite again. Compared to the beating Zim had gotten, nothing seemed to terrible, and so no one bothered going down, they even took less time taking their medication. He could see their silhouettes against the curtain that separated him from them. No one wanted to be in there, as if merely associated with him would invite Dib's wrath. Zim stared at his hands, the accusations and threats buzzing in his head, only to be cut silent by the metal rings sliding against the bar and the flourish of a thick cotton curtain.

"Zim?"

He could not look at her. There was a cut on her face from where her brother's class ring had cut her. He had an almost identical mark. He thought about the broken skin and blood on her brother's hands. Dib's hands were loyal. His hands were honorable and concerned for Gaz's safety and well being, not some warped gratitude. He could have seen it. He could have known she would not stand for him to get beaten in front of him. He could have stood his ground and fought back, not to hurt Dib, but for self-defence.

But his hands had smoothly convinced him not to fight. Or maybe it was the PAK. Maybe it was his own choice. He had not wanted to fight Dib, even if he had seen it coming. He could not explain why, nor did he want to know, really. He just had not. He had been frightened. He had known what was coming, and he knew it was partially deserved.

The nerves in his hands were writhing like snakes. His fingers tightened to press into the backs of his hands. His knuckles turned white, his fingertips darkened, like the two demons were trying to strangle one another. Gaz was probably staring at him in contempt and loathing, a pure, innocent mouse who existed to fall prey to his wicked hands.

She sat down beside him in the semi-darkness, "You okay?"

He nodded. She laid her hand on his shoulder. There was a little pain from a dislocated collarbone, but nothing really hurt anymore. Her hands could never cause him discomfort, anyway. Her hands seemed to be the last ones still clean.

There was a dull pang when he breathed and his ribs expanded and snapped back together again. He had lied about them. He had told the staff nothing was broken, because going to the hospital would only cause more problems. It had been difficult enough to explain his green blood. He was not human, after all. But he would heal quickly enough. He had been engineered for it. Physical pain did not hurt so much after he had taken the Metamorphosis Drug, and perhaps just compared to emotional pain it was dwarfed. But still, even with his deadened nerves, when Dib had knocked him into the wall and had stomped on his ribs, there had been no denying he had felt a great degree of pain.

"You don't have to be here." he said.

"I want to be." she said, "I—I need to be."

He shook his head, turning to her, "No, Gaz, you don't under—"

The torn pages from his sketchbook were in her other hand. He looked into her amber eyes, but she said nothing, and her face did not give anything away. He yelped and slid back, freeing himself from her gentle hands. He did not _deserve_ her sympathy. He was a dishonor to the empire, a blotch upon his race. He was a defect, and it seemed the Metamorphosis Drug had only made his flaws worse.

"I understand Zim."

He did not say anything.

"I'm not mad."

He felt like cutting his tongue out, tearing out his eyes and hacking off his hands. But Dib would not be satisfied with that, would he? Had he sent her to make problems worse? To taunt Zim with something he could not have?

No, when had Gaz ever obeyed her brother?

He went back to glaring at his vile, worthless hands. She gently slid the sketchbook out from under them, he wanted to take it from her, but something held him still. If she was going to hate him, she might as well hate him properly. She did not look, though, she just slipped the drawings that had caused all of this trouble and back between the pages and returned it to him.

"I'm not mad." she said again.

"You... You should be." he said, "Zim has done a terrible thing, and—"

"Well, I'm not."

He did not say anything, he just buried his face in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. He would not cry. Not about this. Not in front of her. Maybe when he was at home and alone with his thoughts. Maybe when he was about to take his own life from shame. He had done enough crying today.

"I'm kind of... Glad." She scooted back to his side and draped her arms around him, letting him rest in head on her shoulder, and he found he was unable to fight against his hands or contain his emotions. She did not seem to mind the relentless marathon his hands ran over her back, but he knew better than to let that madness continue. He tried to stop, because he knew it was not right, but something was screaming for him to go on, something that should not even be there.

"Zim?"

"Yes?"

"Can you give me a ride home?"

His hands tightened against her shirt, "I shouldn't." he said sharply. But if she drove home with her enraged brother, who could guarantee her safety? And if she walked home, she might _really_ be harassed. Dib had accused them of such terrible things, what if everyone assumed they were true?

But if he took her home, everyone see there was _some_ merit to the awful accusations Dib had made. They really would see Gaz as a whore that snuck around behind her brother's back, as a traitor to the human race, some one so desperate she would even consider _him_ a good match. He owed billions of lives to her, he should attempt to keep her good image intact, too?

Yes, but what about her physical well-being? Dib might do anything when he was angry, even kill her. What would her father say? True, Professor Membrane knew Zim was an alien, and he suspected the older human had a small liking for him, but who's word would he take, Gaz's or Dib's?

"If you're in no condition to drive, I understand, but I—"

"I'll do it."

"Let's go somewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't know." she said, "But let's go now. Dib won't see us."

"But—"

"I don't care." she said again, resting her face against his, the blood from her cut mixing with his. With a gentle kiss she whispered, "Zim, I don't care."

His skin sparked at her touch. His hands relaxed again, and it was impossible to fight them. Maybe he was the traitor to his hands. She stood up, and he was drawn with her, his entire body joining the revolt against his common sense. Dib was driven to kill him over a drawing. What would this bring him aside from total annihilation? If there was a spell to destroy body and soul, the human worm would find it.

But he did not want to think of that.

Irkens were not made for emotional attachment, but as he watched her gather up his things and wondered if he was getting too deep, he was not terribly concerned. He _cared _for her. He knew that. He even had _desire _for her. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted to live the rest of her short life with her, and spend the rest of his life mourning her loss. It was a sad way to face life, but when he looked into her honey-sweet eyes it was all he wanted.

It was all there. All those emotions associated with red, from love to anger, and even some associated with blue, like honor and loyalty, even sorrow. They were storming inside his torso, merging and contorting until in his subconscious there was a little image of her. Even against the wishes of the whole and the PAK, these images raged on when he was alone until he could not stand it and screamed for the emotions and confusion to stop.

He had what one could call love. If this was the formula for love, he would even gladly admit it. But there was something holding him back. Was it the PAK? Could he take it off for a few minutes and love her without restraint? Was that any kind of way to live?

_Yes_! That little voice in his head screamed_, Screw the PAK! Damn it, Zim, just take hold of her and... and..._

But that was not it. He was afraid. He was Irken and she was Human. Even between his own kind, love was unheard of. Friendship was a bond rarely forged. Passion? Passion had been stamped out eons ago.

So why was he feeling it?

"Come on." she said, taking his hand and leading him out into the light again.

No one was there, it seemed the nurse had left out of self-preservation. They walked out together, no one seemed to want to stop them. Zim half expected Dib to be waiting at his car, ready to kill them both.

But he was not.

It seemed even the roads were deserted. Only Gaz's hand on his own reminded him that he was not completely alone. It was just the silent pair, the roar of the engine, and the wirr of the fusion drive. Them and their silent understanding.

He wanted to stay on that highway for ever, and drive off. Just the two of them. Find a place where they _could_ be together. A place where everyone was immortal. A place where such sharp contrasts between Human and Irken did not exist. A place where even the line between black and white was blurred.

But in such a place, surely crime and order were one in the same? Who was he to take Gaz into such a violent new land? To take her from her home, to cut all contact with the ones she called family? The things she loved? She may claim not to mind, but he was smarter than that.

Besides, there was no such place.

So they settled on the next best thing.

The curtain of leaves blocked out the sunlight, except for little patches that shone through the windshield, giving them a camouflage pattern of light and dark. They could see the children playing, and they remembered they days they had watched children their own age (or, height, in Zim's case) play on the very same playground. She had been younger, then. He had been delusional, he would even go so far as to say stupid. They could see the past now, but the past could not see them behind the curtain of leaves.

He hoped Gaz could not hear him hissing in pain over the hiss of the radiator. He leaned back against his seat, trying to find a comfortable position with cracked ribs and a dislocated collarbone. Was this really what she wanted? She had not said a word in protest, after all. Even now, she did not seem to assume he just needed a rest. His hand tightened on the gear shift as she closed the gap between them. Her hand slid up his arm, careful of his injured shoulder. The hand that had fallen limp against the wheel rose up and circled around her waist.

"Gaz?"

"Yes?"

But what could he do? Deny it? Yes, that had been the plan, but it seemed so stupid now. She had see what he had drawn, and she was _clearly_ not avoiding him. What would be the point of trying to lie his way out of this one? Why would he even want to?

He reached down and pulled the lever so that the seat would fall back. He managed not to cringe in pain as the sore gash on the back of his head bumped into the seat, "Do you have enough room?"

She laughed. Coy. Seductive. Yet still caring, "Are you too injured?"

Yes, but that was not going to stop him. He raised his hand up to cradle her face. There was such a contrast between her skin and his own, her dark hair was like silk against his fingers. Her eyes were shining and glowing like candle flames. She gently knocked off his wig, and the back of her finger traced a line down to his throat.

Her hands softly tore off the tie and tossed it into the back seat to join his wig. He found the edge of her stocking and worked it down to her knee, never breaking eye contact. With only one hand, she slipped the top buttons of his shirt free and spread his collar, caressing his neck, pausing only a moment to look a bruise her brother had left.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"Why didn't you fight back?"

He did not have an answer for her. The hand that had remained on her face moved to hold the back of her head and wove through her hair. With a little gas her eyes fluttered and she moved her hands so that they were gripping the headboard. Slowly, hesitantly, she moved towards him, until her lips met his. Unsure at first, then stronger, as the mutual comfort they found in each other's touch grew.

Zim had always been told that Irkens were not made for physical contact, but his entire body seemed to scream for her. He was losing himself to a base instinct his race was not supposed to have. The warning sirens were blaring in his ears as he laced his fingers with hers. Despite the fact he only had three, and she had four, it still seemed right. He closed the gap between their bodies, and against his better, logical knowledge he tucked his free hand up her dress, coming to rest at the center of her back.

It was not supposed to be like this! This was never supposed to happen! This was—

He told himself to shut up as she ran her Earthling tongue along his lip, and hitched her leg around his waist. He was not supposed to be her height now. He was not supposed to run his hand along her smooth body, searching the contours he had memorized long ago. He was not supposed to feel passion of any kind, unless it was for the mission. But he was, and even though part of him knew it was wrong, the other part of him did not care. The mission was gone anyway, and so he had to direct his passion towards _something_. Perhaps she was even simply doing this to spite her brother, but he did not mind. Perhaps it was just a girlish infatuation that would be gone in a day.

He would not be the last, then.

Her skirt had ridden up her legs, so his forearm brushed her bare thigh as he shifted to hold her more securely against him. She was higher now, so that he had to crane his neck, and he would have hardly noticed if not for the pain in his shoulder. Her breath was cool against his cheek, her arms were wrapped around his head, her chest rising and falling against his chin.

"Zim!" she whispered breathlessly, pulling away for air. He ignored her. He suddenly felt restrained. Hindered. What had been suppressed for generations was back with vengeance, breaking free of the shackles of science, triumphant. The black cherry lip gloss was strange against his tongue, a taste new and alien and merged forever with this previously inexperienced stimulus.

He wanted to say her name, to show her he was not completely lost, but every time he tried it was just a soft moan and vanished into another passionate caress. She jerked his shirt out of his jeans and slid her hands up his chest. He stared up at the sunlight streaming through the leaves as she left a trail of kisses down his neck and opened his shirt.

What would happen when she found him physically lacking? That she found he was just psychologically male, while physically, nothing? Now was as good a time as any for her to find out, when she had nothing invested in the relationship. "Irkens... aren't like Humans." he said as her hands found his belt buckle.

"Oh?"

"What I mean, Gaz, is that you won't find anything there."

Besides, there were certain anatomical differences between ancestral Irkens and Humans anyway, which would defeat the purpose of even attempting any form of reproduction that was not artificial. He had been lead to believe that it was generally a pleasant experience for Humans, but he had been taught just the opposite for Irkens, [1.] but perhaps that was simply propaganda.

He was starting to have second thoughts. Not about her, but about taking this dive right now. He should drive her home, and maybe study up on the subject a bit before making a fool of himself. He was a competent scientist, the Metamorphosis Drug had proved that, nothing could tell him what he could not accomplish.

And it was not a decent action for the front seat of one's car, on any planet.

And what if a child ran under the tree searching for a football?

"Gaz, I think we should stop."

"Shut up, Zim."

"...Y-yes ma'am." [2.]

* * *

Her brother was not home. Her father was, but he rarely paid attention to the company that she tarried with by the door, and so she remained with him for quite some time. Partly because she refused to let him go, partly because he did not want to leave.

She opened the door with her free hand, but he quickly closed it again, "No. I don't want your father to see me."

"The _neighbors_ can see you." she told him softly, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him in for another in a long line of good-bye kisses, "Why can't I go home with you?"

"Because you know perfectly well the Dib-human will come looking for you."

He did sum up the will to leave. Dib would be home soon, and if he wanted to avoid a car chase he had to. So he did, and she quickly disappeared inside after he walked away, looking back frequently to make sure she was all right. He looked up to her bedroom window.

If she cared about him, she would come to it. Then, her beautiful face peeked through the glass and smiled at him. Only then did he feel right with driving off.

Dib was not at the base, but _someone_ had been. Zim ran up to the door and threw it open, only to have it fall off its hinges. That was an easy fix. He stepped inside to put the door back in place,

Robodad was reading the paper from his chair, "Welcome home, son. Where have you been?."

"Hey, Dad. I've just been out."

He started washing his hands, even if he wanted to keep Gaz's scent on him for as long as he could. He was filthy, though and he needed to work. He had projects. He needed to call her later, to make sure everything had not turned sour the moment he drove away.

But he needed to worry about his injuries first. They were starting to hurt little now, but they were healing with more speed. He just wanted to make sure they healed right. He walked across the room to the kitchen. He had finally gotten around to renovating the place. Human authorities could come in and not be suspicious of a toilet in the kitchen. He took iodine and rubbing alcohol and bandages from the cabinet, and for good measure, strong pain killers.

He heard robotic feet in the living room. The improved version of his mother appeared on the stairs. She no longer wore a tutu, and dressed slightly better. She looked normal and seamless.

"Son, you're home late!" RoboMom scolded, "Where have you been? And what happened to you?"

Exactly like he had programmed her.

"Did you get in a fight, Son?" RoboDad asked him. Zim swore loudly as a red line of light swept over him. "My sensors indicate—"

"I _know_ what your sensors are indicating, Dad!" he exclaimed, "What happened here?"

They just shrugged. He sighed in frustration and pursed his lips. Exactly as he had programmed them. They did not utter a word about aliens, strange phenomena, and the lab. Security in the main house was their domain, they concerned themselves with keeping the place tidy, informing Zim of the latest human news, and reminding him to live with in his means and keep his diet healthy. Normal. Human. Parents.

Just with that one thing human parents wanted: Bio-scanners.

Zim looked around and eventually saw his paltry SIR unit skipping down the stairs with Minimoose floating on a string above him like a balloon and an ice cream cone in his hand. The lab was his charge. Zim crossed his arms and frowned. If GIR had been out getting ice cream...! Well, what? Nothing. He would not do anything. It was not the robot's fault he was poorly made. "GIR, what happened here?"

"Someone brokes inna da LAB!" he squealed in delight, "SOMEONE BROKES INNA DA LAB!"

"What was stolen?" he demanded, jerking the lever on the wall and descended into his workstation, 'Computer, inventory!"

_"Sir, nothing was stolen, but your records were hacked and one document was copied."_

It was as if something went _thump_! in his midsection. "Which one?"

"The... the Metamorphosis Formula." the computer said timidly, "She also took the bio-signals of Gaz and Dib."

" 'She?' No!" Zim exclaimed, "Computer! Security footage!"

A screen descended in front of him. First, the intruder and her accomplice broke down the front door. The black cat moved like a whiff of smoke and kept GIR and Minimoose distracted while the short, green skinned burglar quickly and deftly ran into his lab. Once there, she sat down at his computer, using the legs of her PAK to fend off the lab's defences.

"No!" he shouted as Tak stuck a disk inside the computer and quickly left.

But Zim was not in a panic. He knew when to fly into hysteric and when not to. Dib, and possibly Gaz were in danger, but Tak was in danger as well. The Metamorphosis Drug he had engineered was no trifle. Tak was smart, but was she smart enough to read the accompanying notes? What she smart enough to realize that the smallest dose was meant for a gradual change over time? Would she produce and inject too much, not realizing that it would backfire terribly?

Zim had learned a valuable lesson during his time on Earth. He had learned that if he was going to produce something, he had better produce a cure as well. He went over to the cupboard and grabbed a vial of blue liquid. He took three syringes from the drawer below and filled them, sealing them inside a plastic bag and placing them in his pocket.

The Reverse Formula was meant for Dib, just in case he broke into the lab and stole the formula. Just in case, in some misguided notion to get stronger he used it on himself. But Zim had never thought Tak would return and take it. She had gone back to Irk long before the serum's creation, she was not supposed to know it existed. But she somehow found out.

She must have returned to take her revenge for the Empire. She realized that she was no match for Dib now that he was several feet taller. She must have seen he had grown as well, she was smart enough to figure out he had something up his sleeve. She had broken into the lab to take those secrets. If she was going after Dib, she _would_ take too much. It was the logical thing, to produce faster results.

But what would happen when all those nanobots, engineered for slow progress, started working over the course of the years? Zim did not know. He did not want to find out. At least, he did not want to find out while he was vainly trying to save Dib and Gaz.

With out waiting to watch the rest of the footage he took the elevator back into the upper level of the house, where GIR and Minimoose were waiting for him. He snatched up his gloves and jacket, muttering to himself, "GIR, come with me, Minimoose, stay in the base."

The paltry SIR units eyes flashed red for a moment before he quickly donned his disguise, "Yes, sir!"

He slid into the car and buckled his seat belt while Zim ran around to the other side and opened the driver side door. To hell with his injuries! They needed him!

"Computer! Locate the Dib-creature and Gaz. If we can find them before Tak does, we will have an advantage!"

* * *

_[1..] Bug-based species. Think about that for a moment. Bugs don't eat chocolates. They eat other bugs. The bugs they breed with. And then they die after laying eggs. It's a loveless world out there, tank-smeets are probably the best thing that ever happened to them. Irken may not be that extreme, but... I am not a biology major. I need to shut up._

_[2.] Error 404: Suckaz._

_You know, Zim is hard to write for. Its because you can't say all those things you are used to. You can't say "From the bottom of his heart" or "The pit of his stomach" or anything else like that, because the Squeedeldy... what ever that damn thing is... is the only organ he has. He has no brain, at least, it is a very underdeveloped brain, because his PAK has his personality._

_"So, if you switched the PAKS of Tak and Zim, what would happen?"_

_ ... This is a possibility I must explore..._


	6. Chapter 6

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed)

Hey guys, guess what? You're getting two updates this week! That's right, two! For two very stupid reasons:

one: I got my prom dress, it's bright effing green, and its everything I ever dreamed of. I love it to pieces.

two: I got a new printer/scanner/copier. It's exactly like my old one.

So, when Fate is nice to me, I'm nice to my readers.

* * *

Chapter six: Daddy's little Doom-bringer.

She locked herself in her room.

Then she barricaded the door.

Call her a child, but she did. With her killer security system that could tear Dib to pieces in a heartbeat, with her knife under her mattress, with her ability to beat him worse than he beat Zim, she barricaded her bedroom door. She ran to the window in time to see Zim get into his car. He smiled and waved to her, blowing her a little kiss before driving off.

She waved back, smiling.

Then fell down on her bed and laughed.

There were footsteps on the stairs. Heavy ones. The sound of her father's black work boots, with steel soles and toes to protect his feet from all kinds of danger. She sat up quickly. He would test the door. He would find it locked, and even barricaded at that.

Would he ask why? What would she tell him?

"Gazelene?"

"Yes?"

"The Skool called me today."

The fight. They had called about the fight. Gaz bit down on her lip, as if she could bite away the memory of Zim's kiss.

"O-oh... They... They did?"

She stood up and straitened her clothes a bit more. Would he notice the spot on her dress? _Was_ there a spot on her dress? When she turned to check she reached a startling realization and yelped. She pulled open a drawer in the dresser she had blocked the door with and snatched out a second pair of panties. Zim had the old pair. Where? The backseat? She hoped he remembered them, and washed them before he returned them.

"Oh, let him keep them!" she hissed, suddenly giddy.

"Daughter?"

"Nothing, Dad!" she said, "Just... Just a moment... I've... I barricaded the door."

"What?" he laughed in amusement and concern, "Really, now?"

She had both feet on the ground again, after nearly falling over putting on a fresh pair of step-ins. [1.] She started to move the chest of drawers back, and she suddenly caught sight of herself in the mirror. There was still a cut, but it had dried up. Her hair was a mess, and it was not the slightly tousled of lightly mussed, there was no point in skirting around the matter. It was a hot mess. The kind of mess that could only be obtained with three-fingered hands. She did her best to straighten it up.

There was a little love-bite on her neck. She messed her hair a little more to hide it

When she opened the door she tried to look casual to face her father, "Hey, Dad."

"Where have you been?" he asked, guiding her from her room to the living room. It was not in a scolding manner. He was not upset, just concerned. She walked out of his guiding hands and looked around the walls, wishing he would leave her alone so she could take a bath, because she knew she was covered in Zim. And, while that was a good thing and a memory she wanted to keep, she wanted to wash him away for now.

Not because she was ashamed. She knew how valuable her secrets were. Also, she wanted to get covered in Zim again, and she knew for that to happen she had to keep Dib from finding out about her little liaison. Besides, it would be more fun a second time if she had grown to miss him.

"Driving." she said, stalking around the room with her hands behind her, partly because she felt like holding them like that, partly to hide any stains, "You know, with..."

"With Dib's little foreign..." he hesitated, as if he was unsure of the relationship anymore. Gaz pursed her lips. Yup. It was the fight. They called about the fight. It was the fight. Fight. Fight. "With Zim?" he finished.

She yawned. Why was she so tired? And giddy?

Then, for good measure and clarification, he added, "The alien?"

She stopped in her tracks, she knew there was no point in hiding anything from him. He was her father, after all. He required a certain degree of respect. She looked down and nodded, "Yes, Dad."

"Dib was worried about you." her father said. He patted the couch beside him, and she joined him, sitting a distance away. "Gaz, is there any reason for me to be concerned?"

"About what?"

He lifted his goggles up to give her and knowing look. She stared down at her knees, and her face grew red with the memory of Zim's hands and tongue caressing her thighs. She closed her eyes, as if she could keep her father from seeing what he had already assumed, and wrapped her arms around herself.

"You're not ashamed, are you, Dad?"

"Are you?" he asked her.

She looked up at him, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, "N-no. J-just a little scared, is all. Of— of what Dib'll do if he finds out... Dad, they tell you what he said about me?"

He nodded.

She had gone from giddy and tired to depressed and wide awake suddenly, and she sighed, "Maybe I sould stay with a friend for a while."

But she did not have many friends, let alone any she could stay with.

"...Or, with Zim."

Her father remained expressionless.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Did I make a bad choice?"

But the Professor just shook his head and patted her hair, "I have a timed experiment, daughter." he said briskly, "We will discuss this later."

He closed himself behind this plastic cocoon and did not say a word afterward. Gaz sighed and walking into the bathroom, tired and giddy again. Complacent. Normal. Just like she should be.

There was a little blotch of blood on her dress. That was normal, too. She resolved to do laundry as soon as he got out of the bath, so Dib would not see it. She sighed, looking at the stain and wondering if it was ruined. Such a shame. She had _wanted_ to keep it (She had wanted to keep that sharp tie of his [2.]). It was more than just a twenty-dollar dress. Serves her right for wearing a purple dress, not a black one.

If she let it soak, would it help?

She ran water from the sink over it, until it ran clear and the red-brown stain was mostly gone, then she let it hang on the unused towel rack. She decided that if she did not manage to get the stain out completely, she would bleach it, and they dye it again. Red, because red was _Zim's_ color. It was _Juliet's _color. Of course, Juliet died, and Zim got the living crap beaten out of him for her. But that did not make him any less exiting or wonderful. She made quick work of washing off her skin and rinsing his hands out of her hair. She decided she might just dye the dress red even if it was spotless. She might just run to the store right now.

Was red a good color on her?

Well, what else would she dye it? Green? That would look awful!

Red it was. The closest she could get to the Irken uniform. No, Vampy Crafty [3.] did not sell "Irken Elite Red." They had blood red. They had temptation red. Candy apple red and Brick red.

She dried her hair and put on sweatpants and a loose-fitting T-shirt. When she walked down the stairs again, she saw her father in the kitchen, out of his lab coat (a thing which he had never done before). She heard the microwave beep and could smell hot chocolate.

"Dad?"

"We... we need to have another talk, Gaz."

"Dad!" she laughed nervously, she had not liked his tone, "Zim is... Zim is _asexual, _you don't really have—"

"About you." Professor Membrane said softly, sitting her down, "About your mother—"

She stared stupidly at him for quite some time. He rarely breathed a word about her mother, let alone willingly started a whole conversation about her. Gaz knew there was a reason. There had to be. The phone rang. Gaz, seized with the sudden urge to avoid talking about her mother, leaped for it. It was a cellphone. It must have been Dib's. Well, talk to him, or talk about her mother?

"Hey, Dib."

_"Sorry." _came the voice on the other side, "_I'm Zim. I'm calling from your phone."_

"Is everything alright?"

_"No!" _he exclaimed, _"Tak broke into my lab and stole the Metamorphosis Formula."_

"What?" she asked, "But, Zim, Tak is on Irk."

_"Well she's back! And I'm following her right now. She and your brother—"_

_ "HI GAZZY!"_ came a loud and metalic voice.

_"Quiet, GIR!"_ Zim shouted, _"I should be able to catch them both at Skool again—"_

"I'll meet you there!"

"_No, you stay where you are. I can handle this._"

"Zim, Dib will kill you if I'm not around to stop him." She said. She had run up the stairs now and was fishing out a hoodie from the closet and putting on a pair of flip-flops, "And, Zim, you're injured! You're in no condition to fight Tak."

_"I am going to reason with her."_ he said, "_Your brother will do the fighting._"

"I'll talk to you up at Skool!" Gaz said, running down the stairs, despite the fact that she was tired. She should not be. She had slept in the car. She should not be tired. She was not. She was going to run to Skool in a pair of flip-flops and lounge wear. She was not tired.

"Gaz!" the professor shouted, standing up and following her, "Where are you going?"

"Dib's in trouble, Dad, and Zim's stupidly going to help him, so they'll both be in danger!"

He looked at the table. There was a file there, he reached for it, looking to her. He really wanted to talk. She could feel how important it was to him. She took another step away from him and to the door. Zim and Dib were important, too. "Where are they?" her father asked, deflated and concerned. He tossed the file down.

"Heading to the Skool."

"Come on, I'll drive you." he said, joining her at the front door, and the two of them climbed into his car and raced off towards the High Skool, "Just tell me what is going on."

"You remember when Dib and I went into space?"

"Yes."

"Well, Dib caused more trouble than he's worth, and— You know the story, don't you?"

"Yes, you've explained it."

_There!_ It was an Irken ship, what looked like a more advanced version of the Ring Cutter. It cast a line of smoke and light as it cut through the sky above Gaz and her father. She stuck her head out of the window for a better look and wished she had a gun to shoot her down with.

"And you remember Tak?"

"Vaguely." Professor Membrane said, "Is that the one we are following?"

"Yes."

The craft made a beeline, and suddenly started shooting, so that the ground behind the Skool went up in light and clouds of debris.

_There!_ Dib was riding up on his motorcycle. The force from the explosion caused his bike to swerve and nearly miss a tree. He regained control quickly, and returned fire with his own laser cannons, which the Ring Cutter effortlessly dodged.

"Where is Zim?" Gaz asked as she and her father jumped out of the car. They looked around, and they eventually saw Zim's beat up old Honda skidding into the parking lot. He did not bother picking a decent space, he just slipped out of the car and left it in the middle of the lot.

"Get out of the ship, Tak!" he shouted, "We need to talk."

"About what?" came Tak's voice from over the set of speakers on the outside of the Ring Cutter, "About sparing the worthless human with the obscenely big head."

For once, Dib let the comment slide.

"About stealing the Metamorphosis Formula!" he shouted, "Tak, come down here."

"You think you command me, my Tallest?" she asked mockingly, "My honorable, traitorous _Tallest_?"

"Tak, you are upset, and you have every right to be, but the Metamorphosis drug is not a trifle."

She shot at him, Gaz screamed in terror as he barely managed to dodge, and she would have run forward, but her fatherÕs hand on her arm held her back, so she just shrieked, "Tak, please don't! Zim is already inj—"

The ship turned to her, "I _know_ the failed Invader is injured. You think I don't know? You think I am blind?"

Then it quickly zoomed towards her, stopping just short of knocking her off her feet. The windshield whipped up and Gaz came face-to-face with Tak. She had grown. She was almost as tall as Zim now. She had stolen some clothes; cargo pants, a tank top, a khaki collared shirt with multiple pockets. She jumped out of her ship kicked Gaz in the chest, landing on the hood of Membrane's car. Her father caught her and through her stunned pain, she heard a gun clicking and fireing.

But he missed.

Then she heard the sound of metal snapping and a body hitting the pavement. When the world came into focus again, she saw Tak picking herself up off of the side walk, half of a broken PAK-leg in her hand. Dib was racing towards her now, the visor on his helmet up.

"Mimi!"

The cat-disguised SIR unit sprang from the inside of the ship, jumping off the car and landing on TakÕs shoulder. It ran down her arm and sprung from her fingers, landing first on the handle bars of Dib's motorcycle, then scratching at his face. He swerved again, this time with much worse results. He was thrown against the pavement and trapped under the machine.

Mimi turned to the next available target. Zim.

"GIR!" the Irken shouted, "Protect your master!"

The fake terrier jumped up and collided with Mimi in mid-air. Gaz watched as the two SIR units fell in a tangle, GIR winding up on top, "HI KITTAY!" he hollered as Zim ran passed with out a second glance, "I GOTS UPGRADES!"

And then he laughed. Waving his hands in the air as he sat on the other SIR unit's chest.

Zim pushed the motorcycle off of Dib's leg. The denim was singed, his arms were scraped, but he was otherwise unhurt. He leaned on Zim and the two looked around, "Where is she?"

Gaz and the Professor looked around as well, searching for any sign of the Irken, but she could not see her, even though she knew she was close. So close. So close to making her move, if only Gaz could see it before she—

There was an earsplitting scream of pain.

Zim shouted her name.

Then someone grabbed her and pulled her away to the front doors of the Skool, so fast her neck popped and a jarring pain lurched down her arm. Everything was a blur and her head was filled with the sound of electricity and rockets.

The first thing she did was look at her brother, who was sprawled across the pavement with Zim at his side, a small pool of blood was forming drip by drop below him. It was falling from the fine, tapered point of one of Tak's broken legs. Tears were in his eyes as he struggled to get up on shaking limbs. The strike had fatally wounded him as well as stunning him. He appeared to be struggling to breath.

"He'll die." Tak said, "He'll die painfully. I'd say he's got about ten minutes."

"Tak, why did you do that?" Zim demanded, his hands on Dib's shoulders, as if he could find away to save him. Gaz knew it was hopeless, though. She struggled against Tak's grip to try to get to her brother's side. She knew shouting his name was useless, but she did it anyway. Maybe he was a jerk, but he did not deserve death.

"You know perfectly well _why_." she said, "Ten minutes was the fate he gave our people. Ten minutes of pain and suffering."

"But she saved us!" Zim shouted, pointing at Gaz, "Dib let us live because of her. Tak, please, you don't understand what you've done."

"I know full well what the drug will do to me. I am aware of the consequences of my actions." Tak said, "But I will have plenty of time to return Gaz to Dirt."

"Why take her there?" Zim asked, "I can see why you would want to vent your aggression on the Dib-creature, but—."

Tak scoffed, "So, you haven't noticed?" she demanded, "You haven't noticed your life has become muddled by worthless human emotions?"

He stuck his hand in his pocket, "That's only an effect of the Metamorphosis Drug." he said calmly, "It has nothing to do with Gaz."

"It is all because of her!" Tak shrieked, "If she had just left things as they were, if she had just let us die, we would not have to suffer the humiliation we are facing now. Irk has been lost in shame, thanks to her! Our once proud race has succumbed to a love of beauty, and it is all this creature's fault."

"What are you implying?"

"She reprogrammed Mothercontrol!"

"She can't have."

"Then kindly explain why the citizens of our empire only want to make amends and live in harmony with the universe? Even the _Tallest_ have begun to look weak."

"Even if that were true, Tak," Zim said, slowly stepping towards her, "How could Gaz have anything to do with it? I saw Mothercontrol. To reprogram it requires a password, and there was no way she could know it. Are you saying Gaz has the power to manipulate technology with her mind? You're mistaken. Now, please, you must come with me, before the Metamorphosis Drug affects you too much."

She shook her head, "I'll not rest until these two have repaid for what they have done to Irk!"

"It is my home as much as its yours, Tak." Zim said, "You have to forgive Dib. He was only a child."

He was slowly inching closer to her. Gaz could not begin to figure out what he thought he was doing. Tak was not backing down, not even when Zim was close enough to grab her. But he did not touch her, instead, lightning fast, an arm in his PAK extended, catching her in the neck. She shouted out in pain and fell away, and Zim jumped back.

He reached into his pocket and took out a syringe, fitting it into the hand-like extension of his PAK-leg. Gaz turned to Tak in time to see her throw the first needle away.

"What was that?" she demanded.

"The Reverse Formula." Zim said, "Now, Tak, try to see reason—"

"I only see what the emotions this demon cursed me with _want_ me to see!" she let go of Gaz and threw herself at Zim, catching him with her hand and throwing the other half of her broken metal leg into his chest, sending and electric shock through his body. They fell down by Dib, who was still struggling to get to his feet. Gaz followed not far behind.

"This argument... is between Tak and me!" Dib forced out,. "Zim, please, t-take Gaz and... get out of here. I was the one... who tried to destroy..." He coughed, blood spilling over her fingers. "... Mothercontrol. If anything bad... happened to the Irken race, it is my fault."

"No." Tak said, "No, you stupid monkey. It was your sister's fault."

She punched Zim once in the face, and jumped away from him.

She grabbed the front of Gaz's shirt, then twirled her around so she could twist her arm behind her. Suddenly, as if caught up in a rage, she slammed her human captive into the pavement, scraping her face and arm against the rough surface. Gaz saw stars from the blow, and so she only barely noticed that Tak punched her, knocking her head back against the ground.

She hoised Gaz up and pulled her back towards the Skool. Gaz managed to flip her over her shoulder, but she caught herself on the legs of her PAK and kicked her into the building.

"The Irken Armada had to be stopped, Tak!" Dib shouted, "Can't you see that?"

Gaz could see the pain in her eyes now. Whether it was because of her emotions, or the Metamorphosis Drug or the Reverse Formula, she could not tell. But there was pain. But Gaz could not pity her. Not while her brother was dying! Tak hissed to her, "You're going back to Dirt. You are going to undo the damage you have done to the Irken race."

Then she shocked Gaz the same way she had Zim. Once again, Gaz could barely see, but she saw the outline of the female Irken against the sun. She saw a PAK leg rise up and a syringe stab into her neck again and empty itself into her bloodstream. Tak grimaced, but was otherwise unfazed. She shook Gaz again, ramming her into the wall of the Skool. Gaz could taste blood from a split lip. She spit a bit of it out onto Tak's new shirt and hissed, "I hope you like nightmare worlds!"

"Just _try_ you little slut!"

"It's on, murdering bitch!" [4.] Gaz tore off her hoodie, raised her fists, and stepped back into a secure stance. She had asked for it the moment she had stabbed Dib. Gaz would kill her. Slowly. She. Would. PAY. She delivered a quick jab to the Irken's windpipe and then a kick to her stomach, knocking her back into her own ship. She used her extra legs to keep her balance and fend off Gaz as while she regained her breath. One of them scratched her cheek and tore a hole through her shirt.

"MIMI!"

"GIR!"

Gaz dropped to the ground as the two robots collided in the air above her. Tak ran back towards her now, two of the remaining three PAK-legs extending and stabbing at her, attempting to wound her, but not fatally. The broken one stabbed her chest again, sending her flying and shocked as little bolts of lighting danced between her fingers. Her shirt was torn open in the back when she skidded against the asphalt, eventually coming to a halt against a stop sign. She would have laughed at the irony were she not in such pain.

How could she have reprogrammed Mothercontrol? Sure, given the chance today, she would do it in a heartbeat if it meant Zim would be able to love her. She had not considered such things when she had first laid eyes on the giant computer. She had disliked it for robing the Irken race of their emotions, but she had never been able to reprogram it. Just as Zim had said, it was impossible to do with out a password, and the password had been lost for generations.

She picked herself up and dusted off, then spit out a bit of blood. _No one_ killed Dib aside from her or Zim! Even if the bastard deserved it.

"That would kill a mere human." Tak said, "Your brother, were he ordinary, he would have died instantly. You're both made of sturdier stuff, aren't you?"

"W-what are you talking about?" Zim asked, "Tak, you've gone off the deep end! Gaz is human, you know that!"

"Silence!" Professor Membrane shouted. She heard a gun firing again. It caused Tak to turn and allowed Gaz the change to jump for her, screaming and cursing. She did not hear the gun firing again, and she did not hear her father shout, "Keep your hands off of my research!"

Tak dropped down as the bullet ripped over her head, Gaz tripped over her and tumbled to the pavement again, scraping her arm. But she was up quickly, this time to deliver a square punch to the other girl's eye. She hissed and scratched back, yanking on her hair and kicking her off. Gaz heard and felt fabric ripping. She had taken the sleeve of Tak's shirt with her.

"Bitch!" Gaz spat as they faced each other, getting to their feet.

"Same to you." Tak said, throwing the ruined shirt in her face to distract her. While she shrieked in anger and raised her hands to take it off, she felt a foot connect with her diaphragm and she fell back, stunned.

"Oh, you _hussy_!" She exclaimed, coughing. She wrapped the shirt tightly into a rope, thinking of how _nice_ it would be to strangle her with it.

"Stop it!" Membrane shouted, storming towards the two of them, "Daughter, control yourself!"

_No!_ her mind screamed as she kicked the alien in the chest and flipped her over her shoulder, _She's killed my brother! Zim might be next!_ Tak fell painfully against the hood of Professor Membrane's car. A dent was left in the metal, and a bit of blood was left on the black paint. She was up again, just as fast, a hand to her head as if she had suffered actual damage.

There was an explosion, Tak turned and Gaz saw her ship going up in flames. She saw Zim leaning heavily on the handlebars of Dib's motorbike. He launched himself by the legs of his PAK to where the two of them stood, frozen in their place, and hit Tak with a third dose of the Reverse Formula.

That seemed to be the end of it. Tak's eyes went dark for a moment, she let out a small cry in defeat and anger, then she fell back into GazÕs arms, staring up at the sky. She drew a shuddering breath and hissed, "I don't want to love..."

* * *

_[1.] That's a term from the 20s! Its such a cute name for undies! And you feel so cool while saying it!_

_[2.] Dear Sideos,_

_ Thank you for letting me pick on you and your love of the academic look. It's just that I can't seem to write a story with out leaving little bits of teasing to _somebody_._

_ Peace out, CheddarBiscuit._

_[3.] In true Invader Zim spirit, I am trying to avoid regular store names. Vampy Crafty= Hobby Lobby. For Goths, punks, and anything else that wants to go with "vampy."_

_[4.]__ I'm just going to say _right now_: if there was an X-rated version of Invader Zim, they would mud-wrestle. They would mud-wrestle and it would be hot. Sooooo hot._


	7. Chapter 7

Meta- Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

I would like to use this chapter to address something Invader Johnny said in his review for chapter five:

"I'm really surprised that Professor Membrane knows Zim is an alien, and yet he does nothing to him." Or something like that.

I could not get to it sooner. Sorry. Hopefully, this clears a lot of things up. Or raises more questions. Or... something...

* * *

Chapter Seven: Science is the Coward's Magic

Zim stripped off his sweater vest. There was a hole in the back. Not one that he had cut himself. It was deliberately edged in a rib knit. Professor Membrane wondered how he had gotten it, but it was a brief wondering. He took off his shirt and tie next and tossed everything by his lilac shirt aside. His PAK had to disconnect for a moment, letting Professor Membrane see two metal rings that pierced through flesh and bone and probably went all the way through to his spine. Using his teeth and hands, he ripped the fabric into strips, muttering to himself that it was ruined anyway.

He jerked out the PAK leg from Dib's diaphragm with out batting an eye. His son screamed in pain as he did this, and the blood started to flow faster. Zim began to bind the wound tightly, first with the strips of his shirt, then with bandages he took out of his paltry SIR unit's empty head.

"Will he be alright?"

He looked at the Professor, then reached behind him and removed his PAK again, holding it over Dib's chest. At once, its wires dove into his chest, "That should keep him alive."

"We can't do anything in ten minutes!" the Professor exclaimed, "We'll lose both of you!"

The memory of what had happened the last time Dib had been hooked up to Zim's PAK flooded Professor Membrane's mind. That had been a terrible day. He did not want those memories to repeat themselves.

"Twenty." he said reassuringly, "You have twenty mintes. I can last that long. Get him to a hospital... or what ever you want."

He staggered to his feet, his tie and sweater vest thrown over his shoulder, hooking an arm under Dib's shoulders and hoisting him up. Professor Membrane helped him lay his unconscious son in the back of the car. He could tell by the occasional cringes and hisses that he was hurt. He could see the flowering bruises on his bare, featureless chest. Zim did not say a word about it, and he must have thought he was a fool who was incapable of noticing. Professor Membrane frowned, torn between playing that fool and being polite.

His paternal instincts took over, "Are you alright?"

He reached out a hand which the Irken waved away, "I'll be okay." he said, "You just see to Dib. I will take care of Tak."

Gaz heard that. She could see the bruises too, now that they were closer. Her golden eyes narrowed and looked him over. "Your injuries still have not been _treated_ yet?" she demanded.

Zim stepped backwards and gave a nervous laugh, "Well, Gaz, I was too busy helping the two of you—"

"I could kill you..." she mumbled, her fire lost now that her target was unconscious, her green blood spilling from the back of her head onto the leg of her sweatpants.

Professor Membrane wondered why it was green for a moment before noticing a little trail of liquid green running down the back of Zim's neck. With a little frown and a quick movement, he took of the Irken's wig. It was not a fracture, just a long cut. One that should have been stitched up quite some time ago, Zim yelped in shock and turned around his, hand to the wound, "Hey!"

"I'm treating that!"

It was supposed to be said like it was just one of those things. Casually. But he could tell by the angry pout that crossed the alien's face for just a moment that he had used entirely the wrong tone. Under his high collar, Professor Membrane turned slightly pink. He had just scolded an alien that was probably several years older than he was.

"You dare talk down to _Zim_?" he demanded. Then he swaggered, "I should not waste my energy. Do not distract me!"

Before Professor Membrane could respond, Zim turned on his heel and stormed away, to where Gir was still wrestling with Mimi. He picked his robot up by the head, then Tak's, and they continued to fight as he carried them apart from each other to where Gaz crouched, still holding Tak. He handed the quarreling robots to Membrane, then hoisted Tak over his shoulders and laid her in the back of the car next to Dib.

"The radiator was damaged on the way over here. I am afraid I pushed the car too hard." He grumbled, "And you have my PAK anyway. Eighteen minutes."

"Daughter, get in the car." he said, handing her the fighting robots, "We can make it."

"To the hospital?" she asked, getting to her feet.

"No. We will hook Dib up to the life support system in the lab." It was in the experimental stages, but it would work for this.

He turned the key, she climbed into the passenger side of the car, GIR and Mimi still squabbling and fighting in her lap. She had no idea how to make them quit. She tried several times, but eventually Zim said, "Don't try. Only Tak can get her to stop."

She turned to look at him, "Are you alright?"

"I am fine."

Out of the corner of his eye, Professor Membrane could see his daughter frown. He looked at Zim in the rear view mirror. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed and his breathing steady. He was conserving his energy. He turned his eyes to his clone. Dib's face was stressed, his mouth and left eyebrow twitched occasionally.

"Ten minutes." he said softly as the Professor pulled into their driveway.

"Dad, hurry!" Gaz said, dropping GIR and Mimi and unbuckling her seat belt. She and her father carried Dib into the house, leaving a suspicious trail of blood over the lawn and side walk. When she had helped him lay Dib down on the table she jerked out the bloody PAK and wiped it off on her shirt, then ran with it back to Zim, leaving Professor Membrane to hook Dib up to the life support on his own.

That was no big deal.

Zim came down again, looking far more alert now that his PAK was once again hooked up to his spine. Professor Membrane frowned, angry that the Irken could get into a fight, seduce his daughter, and save his son's life, with busted ribs, a gash on the back of his head, and a few other injures, all in the span of a few hours. He doubted a normal human could do that with out succumbing to the pain at some point.

Irkens were just made of stronger stuff.

"What are you doing here?"

"I know the tumult of human emotions." he said frankly, "It will be too emotionally stressful for you to treat your son. I will do it. You see to Tak."

Professor Membrane looked at Dib's body laid across the medical table in his lab. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he was planning something. He walked across the room, to the medical table and bringing down the light.

"You... You won't kill him, will you?"

Because Zim _did_ have busted ribs and a split lip and a gash on the back of his head because of Dib. The Irken turned his red eyes to him and said, "If I had wanted your son dead, I would have pulled out that leg when Tak first wounded him." Then he turned away just as quickly, the legs of his PAK reaching out, the hand-like extensions grabbing the surgical tools, and dropping them into his hands. When they had done this, they took the makeshift bandages and cut them free, pulling back Dib's skin, more like a spider with medical knowledge than an Invader.

"Go see to Tak." He broke the surgeon's thread with his teeth and threaded the needle, holding it out to him. Professor Membrane took it and turned around, walking up into the living room. Gaz was moping up the blood at the back of Tak's head with a washrag. She was coming to, but she was barely aware of the situation.

He stopped for a moment. And stared at Gaz's pale, green-covered hands. Would she figure it out? What she was? That she really _did_ have the power to manipulate technology with her mind and so much more?

Or had she already?

"Gaz?"

She turned to look at him. She had her mother's eyes. So did Dib, of course, but she had her mother's face, so it was slightly more painful to look at her. But he did it anyway, because she may be the spitting image of her mother, but she was still half him, on the inside.

"I'm sorry, Dad... This day as been so... So..."

"Eventful." he said, sitting down beside her, "I know."

"She _stabbed_ my brother." she said, crossing her arms, "And I just _knew_ she was going to kill Zim next."

"She'll be fine."

"And what about Dib?"

"He'll pull through."

"Jerk." she mumbled, crossing her arms and getting Irken blood on her hooded pullover, "I hope he feels _really_ guilty when he wakes up."

"Now, now."

She sat there, unmoving, while her father sewed up the back of Tak's head. There was a little crack in her skull, but nothing to terribly fatal. She might have a concussion. She might have amnesia. Which might be a good thing. He would not know until she woke up, and even then, Zim would be a better doctor than he was.

Zim was most likely a better _everything._ He could probably take better care of Gaz and Dib. Professor Membrane frowned as he cut the thread and tied it off. The female Irken's hand twitched, and she mumbled something, but stopped moving after that. He dried up the last bit of blood, then lifted her up so that Gaz could slide out from under her. They left her on the couch, if she were any taller, she would not have been so comfortable.

Gaz sat down in an armchair and turned on her GameSlave, scowling. Doubtless, _some_ 16-bit villain would get his face handed to him. Zim emerged from the lab then, wiping blood from his hands with an already bloody strip of his shirt.

"How is he?"

"He'll be fine."

Something screamed in pain from Gaz's GameSlave. Zim jumped a little and looked at her, then his expression softened considerably. A little jealousy flared up in Professor Membrane's chest as the alien walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Mad, Love pig?"

_Love pig?_ he thought to himself, half outraged, half humored.

"Has your _head_ been sewn up yet?" she asked. A hoard of Vampire Piggies cried out and were suddenly silenced.

Unfazed, Zim planted a little kiss on her purple hair, "It's just a scratch."

"None for you." she hissed angrily, "Until you let Dad see to your injuries."

"I'd much rather it be you—"

She slammed the GameSlave shut and jerked herself from her arms. She slapped him, then tore the surgon's thread and needle from his hand. She stood up and forced him to sit down in the chair. Something told Professor Membrane to intervene then, so he quickly walked over and took the supplies from his daughter's hand, before she murdered Zim with a sewing needle "You don't know the herringbone stitch." he said, "Go get some bandages from the lab for his ribs."

"Fine." she stormed off.

Zim chuckled a little, "Firey, th—"

Professor Membrane felt no remorse driving the sharp point through the Irken's skin. His statement about Gaz was abruptly cut off by a yelp of pain. He antennae flickered wildly as he continued to sew him up. Unlike Tak, his skull was not even cracked. There might be a little chip missing, but that was it. Irkens were certainly made of stronger stuff than humans were.

After the second yelp of pain, the Professor stopped treating him so roughly.

Zim had returned to Earth six years ago after Dib had run away to Irk. Professor Membrane did not know what went down, but from what Dib told him later, Zim _could_ have killed them both. But he had not, he had gone to great lengths to keep them alive He could have been killed himself, because he was a defect and a failure (_becuase_ he had not killed Dib), but he had chosen exile on Earth, because no one would have taken Dib and Gaz home.

Zim had returned to Earth and he had nothing. He had Gir, he had Minimoose. He had the clothes on his back and his base, which would fall into ruin soon enough because he had nothing else. He had no allies. No funding. The ship he had come in had come in flew itself into the sun. Even if Zim returned to his home planet, he would only be killed. He was truly an exile.

The Professor had watched him on that night walking away from the house. A little drizzle had picked up, and he knew it would quickly develop into a harsh rain, but the Irken had not seemed to notice. His shoulders were slumped, his normally proud step dejected. Where Dib had seen a fully grown alien, he could not help but see a helpless child. Small and alone, with out protection and with out aide.

Now that Zim was only a little taller than Gaz, Professor Membrane was _still_ fooled by his height. Now he just saw a teenager barely getting by on his own. He had to remind himself countless times that Zim was decades, possibly even centuries older than he was, but the way his hands fidgeted on the table betrayed a new found innocence. He was scared of the world, just like a child. Headstrong, like any normal teenager.

"We have not spoken in a while."

The little flicker in Zim's antennae seemed to say_ there is a reason for that_. He was probably thinking a million things. About how he did not _need_ the Professor's help. About how asking for help was disgraceful. About how he and his son were only out to dissect him and steal Irken technology.

"How have you been?"

"Fine."

"My... My offer still stands." he said, finishing up the last stitch, "We could use a mind like yours."

Zim pursed his lips and his forehead creased. His red eyes narrowed. He had refused the offer Professor Membrane had given him to work at Membrane Labs six years ago. The Professor could not figure it out, but he was certain the alien had his reasons. He always had reasons. It was probably to protect the technology of his kind, and keep them out of the hands of humans. Even an exile, he had fierce loyalty.

So he understood. Still, he worked behind the scenes, pulling strings, even going so far as to start a private social program to keep him safe. Membrane Labs protected him, even though Zim did not know it. He assumed it was luck no one came his way, but rare was the fool who would dare touch something Professor Membrane had extended his hand too. Regardless of what happened, that protection would stand, even if Zim refused to work for Membrane Labs for the rest of his life.

"Gaz would like that..." he mumbled, staring down at his hands, "... and you _could_ use my genius."

Speaking of the embodiment of hellfire, she climbed up the stairs at that point, the bandages in her hand. Professor Membrane excused himself then, turning towards the kitchen, his eyes fell on the file. He looked back at Gaz, angrily wrapping Zim's chest, then back to the file, between two untouched mugs of hot chocolate.

A little jolt of fear snapped in his chest as he snatched it up and hid it against his chest. The courage he had summed up when Dib and Zim had gotten into that horribly one-sided fight was quite used up, now. He had spent it all on firing that gun and watching his cloned children nearly get killed. Now that it was gone, even if Gaz had questions for him, he could not let her see that file.

Then he walked back down into the lab. He looked at Dib for a moment, still alive, sewn up. He was not bleeding anymore. His vital signs were normal. He would be fine. If Zim spared him, Dib would certainly live.

He turned to a locked cabinet and opened on drawer to put the file back inside it. One single photograph fluttered out and fell on the floor. It twisted and drifted downwards so quickly, he did not have time to fully see it. It fell blank side up. He started to shake a bit, but then he remembered that it was only a photograph.

It was only a photograph of _her_.

He knelt down, but hesitated to pick it up. It was torture to look at it. It was a living hell. He looked into to his children's eyes and he managed to repress the feeling of guilt and defeat because he loved them so much. He picked up the photograph and slipped it in the file with out looking at it.

But that felt wrong. That felt like he was ignoring her memory, so he took it back out, its blank side facing him and took a breath. He turned it over.

Golden eyes. Beautiful, clear golden eyes that you could not break away from. That he never could. Her face was smooth, and shown like a pearl against her curling dark hair. Even when she was laying dead in a funeral home, resting in a bed of cream silk, he had found it impossible to look away from her. Her hair spread out around her, like a lace fan. She looked so serene and perfect, it was almost like her amber eyes would come open at any moment. Just like before they wheeled her into the cremation chamber. Just before they opened the furnace door.

Just before she was reduced to ashes. Just before they could fit her into an urn.

He had taken a lock of that priceless dark hair. He had folded it away in a handkerchief and had kept it with him. Preserved forever. Once in an airless glass jar. Once in the back of his freezer. Once he had carried it for weeks in his wallet and had felt a little rush of panic every time he checked for it, for fear it was gone.

He set the file down and sat down at his desk and stared at her portrait.

How could he tell Gaz and Dib what they were? That their mother had never once seen them? Had never once known she was even going to have children? That he had created them on his own, partly because he could, but mostly because he was desperate to have a little piece of his lost love live again?

Twenty five years, he had kept it flawless. He tossed it aside with the rest of the file and covered his eyes with his hands. He was a terrible father. Twenty five years. He had lived with the truth, yet he could not sum up the courage to tell his children they were clones.

Did her family even know she was dead? He had never found them. He had never seem them, except in photographs. He had been called and told that his fiancée had died. He handled all of the arrangements. He handled the cremation. He had bought a nice black urn to put her ashes in. One she would like, if she ever saw it.

He laid his head down on his desk. He did not like thinking about it. He did not like looking at his children — their children — and seeing her face. He hated that _she_ had never gotten to see them. That _she_ had never been around for them. That she had never been able to fill their lives with love and joy just as she had done for him.

His daughter was growing up, and she had done so with out him. She had practically chosen her future, and what hurt him what not that she had done it, but that she had done it and he had no idea what he had wanted her to do. He had never thought about it. If it were up to him he would have responded, "She's still in elementary school, right? She will be sitting on my couch, playing _Vampire Piggy Hunter_ for ten years, still."

But it would have been a cold, vain denial.

His son was probably more distant from him than he had been from his own father. His son seemed to have his grandfather's violent tendencies, but he combined it with the little psychic power he had inherited from his mother for disastrous results. There was a reason star children stayed with star children and bad blood kept with bad blood. It was so that children like Dib would not be created and doom the universe.

At any other time, he would have said, "There is still time. I can still straiten him out!"

But now he knew there was no time to be made.

His children had powers they did not even know about. It was not that the Mekrob had given his son powers. No. It was that they had brought them out, and when his bad blood showed through, they had sealed it away again. Now, the stars were holding their breath and wondering when that seal would be broken. It was not that his daughter developed her powers on a freak accident. It was not mere coincidence that Mothercontrol had started to malfunction the moment she touched it. Their mother had given them their abilities.

He locked away the file again, and the portrait of their psychic mother. He had always secretly envied her powers, but it was a mutual trade. She was attracted and insanely jealous of his intelligence. _If we ever had children, Hector_, she had always told him, _Do you know what they would be?_

"... Either very wonderful, or very terrible." he finished for his memories.

He turned to Dib. He had made two. One was terrible. Sometimes even a monster that masqueraded behind a mask of a loyal son and good hero. But he did not do it on purpose. No child of _hers_ could willingly cause such damage in their right mind.

"My poor insane son." he mumbled, looking down at his clone. He had his mothers eyes. Sometimes Professor Membrane suspected that was all he had of hers. But, no. He had her powers. He had her fascination with the stars and the paranormal. And he had his father's intelligence to back it up.

He had made two. One was nice, even if she pretended to be tough and harsh. She sought peace and harmony with the universe and nature, even if she was not fully aware of it. She was a wild child and a peacemaker.

"She's my daughter, alright." She had his attraction to fancy gadgets and technology. Her mother's powers had been given to her, too, but they directed themselves to electronic things. It did not matter what it was, a cell phone or an Irken ship, Gaz could get it to do her bidding.

He had made two, and he had preteneded that their mother was just a radom donor, so that no one would know he was collecting money for his own selfish reasons. So that no one would know he was madly trying to bring a little piece of his fiancée back.

He had never told them. Now it was coming back to haunt him. He had accidentally created two of the most powerful beings in the universe, and no order of protection form Membrane Labs could keep power-hungry mad men from them for long. If even an alien had found out, rumors were certainly spreading, now. Behind his back. Through Membrane Labs and out into the Black Market, possibly out into the stars.

Who was to say the rumors had not started on Irk? Who was to say they had not started in both places, to trap him and his children in a pincer claw of backstabbing and rumors. With a sigh, he took out a sheet of paper and a pen from the desk. He had to tell them. Some one would try to take them away.

His hand tightened on the pen.

He would rather _die_ than let someone use his children for world conquest! If someone did manage to take them away, he would give his life trying to give them back. All of the knowledge and funding he had accumulated over the years because of his success in cloning was not worth losing them. It could not be.

He was a terrible father. He may not have made the same mistakes his own father had made, he was not an alcoholic, after all. He kept a steady job. But it was too steady. He was never around.

Zim might even try to take them away. Professor Membrane shook his head to clear it. He could not suspect him any more. Even if he did take over the world, it would be an empty victory. There was no homeland to impress.

Zim was too scared of Dib to do anything, anyway. He certainly was fond of Gaz. Too fond of her to use her for anything other than—

"Hands _off_ you green-skinned _jerk_!" Gaz was exclaiming, "I am _still_ angry with you."

"Ah, yes. But I know the Earth-female's weakness for romantic gestures."

"H-Hey! I said hands _off_!"

She must have slapped him, because Professor Membrane heard it, and heard him staggering backwards as well, running into the wall. Zim growled coyly, and the Professor heard a few metal clicks. He looked up and wondered what was going on. He heard a few footsteps in the silence, he turned the the lab door.

"Ah!" Gaz screamed suddenly, "PAK legs, too!"

Professor Membrane wished he had not heard that.

Part of him wanted to tie the boy up and throw him on the front lawn and turn the sprinklers on. Part of him wanted to rip up the Order of Protection from Membrane Labs he had given Zim six years ago and let the various alien-hunting organizations tear him to pieces. Part of him wanted to strangle him and shout, 'Keep your hands off my research!'

But he knew that was wrong.

But he just cleared his throat and said, "Keep your hands off my _daughter_."

* * *

_This did not address his curiosity about robotics and technology, but what ever. Professor Membrane _is_ curious, but he's just keeping it too himself. Besides, he's seen GIR._

_Also, Mother F-er, the file for this is getting huge! You guys have read up to page 70, but guess what? It's 170 pages long. Twenty of those are the next two chapters, sure, but that's, like, one hundred and fifty pages of cut content, notes, chapter concepts, and outtakes. And one poem._

_ Soooo much writiiiing..._

_Also, apparently, the voice in my head that now reads all of my written work is the voice of my current English teacher._

_His voice makes me drowsy._

_And it's just plain awkward._


	8. Chapter 8

Meta-Morphine

(Disclaimed.)

What the hell? Let's have some DaTr! (which is _like_ ZaGr, but with a higher percentage of accidentally typing 'tard'! That's no judgement on DaTr, that's just me... having dyslexia.)

My college classes ended today. Unfortunately, I still have finals and (UGH!) _High school_ classes. Like, one, which is COMPLETELY FRIGGEN USELESS.

* * *

Chapter eight: Vestigial Virginity

The scientific team of father and son stood over her. She was cold. Naked. Numbed from morphine and drowsy from ether. The light above them made their twin cowlicks seem like the horns of the human devil himself. But she knew it was Membrane Senior and Junior. It caught their glasses and the sharp blades in their hands.

She quivered. It felt like such a valiant, trying effort. One little shake was all she could make against the straps and cuffs that held her down against the rubber sheet. Was this her death bed? A metal table? It pressed hard against the rings in her back where her PAK would connect with her.

Her PAK!

She quivered again. This time to move her head to look for it. The Membrane duo noticed her movement, and they turned to her, "She's awake, son."

"Good." Dib said harsly, "I want her to be awake."

"Very well." Membrane Senior sounded reluctant. Like he wanted to scold his son for his hatrid of the Irken that had tried to kill him not but a few days ago.

Or was it months? Had she been kept her that long? That she might be probed and studied alive, while her near-victim recovered. Kept on display? Humiliated at his whim?

"And I want her to feel this."

Her antennae — her only real sensory input at the moment — heard his hand tightening on his scaple. She sensed Membrane Senior was frowning, "Now, Son—"

"My-" she could hardly speak for the drugs in her bloodstream, "My PAK! Where is it? I'll die with out it!"

"That's the point." Dib taunted her, "We're going to see just how long you last."

"What?" Professor Membrane hissed, "Dib—!"

"Turn off the life support!"

Her head fell back painfully against the rubber sheets. Why did she fight? She was half dead already. Who bothered to keep a dissection victim alive? They would dispose of her like a common lab rat. They would burn her remains callously and Zim would not even give her proper final rites.

She could see him on the observation deck. His arm around the waist of the technopathic _bitch_ that had doomed their Empire — _her_ Empire — to tears and love, to lost in her kiss. Too under her control to see what was going on below him.

"Traitor!" she hissed, "You are next!"

The light glinted off of the medical blade in Dib's hand as he lowered it to her skin, "Since you are actively out to kill me, I might as well put you to good use."

"No!" She exclaimed, "Please, Dib, no! Don't— Don't do this to me!"

He stopped just shy of her quivering skin.

"I'll do anything you want!" she said to keep herself alive. To serve the Empire one more day.

He set his scalpel down and took off one of his rubber gloves, then the medical mask that he wore. He turned away the light, leaving nothing by darkness for a few seconds. When she could see again, he was so close she could see her fearful eyes reflected in his glasses. He un-gloved hand stroked her numb face, up to her left antenna.

Little coils of static and pleasure rolled through her skin as his fingers traced a gentle line down the fine hairs. She shuddered and moaned, but not because she was desperate to get away. The color rose in her face, every fiber was on fire. Dib seemed thoughtful for a moment, and once again, he stroked her antenna. Her breath came fast now, eased away from fear and into ecstasy with his touch. He leaned closer to her, until his lips gently brushed hers.

She closed her eyes, her dreams realized for just a moment. But perhaps it was only her mind tricking her so she would emerge from this terrible ordeal alive. She could not help but shudder, her eyelids and antennae and heart fluttering as he deepened his kiss. Her hands twitched and she let her lips spread to accommodate his tongue, as if they were dying to get at him. To return his loving, soft touch.

His ungloved hand stroked down her soft green skin. Exploring. Probing like any good scientist would, but she could feel the desire behind his fingers. She did not see him pick up the scaple again as he drew away from her to whisper, "Does that feel good?"

"Yes!" she panted, "_Yes!_"

Then something pierced her skin, just deep enough to cut the layer of flesh away and leave her organs untouched. His eyes hardened again and he drew away, getting her precious green blood over his hand as he dragged the blade down her stomach, "How about that?"

* * *

"NO!" Tak screamed as she sat up, "Please, don't!"

There was nothing but darkness around her. She let her breath and reality catch up with her in the night. The moon shone bright and full and splashed silver light across the floor. She was okay. She was fine. She even hysterically looked at her stomach to make sure there was not a long gash there. There was a little scratch from her own nail. That was it.

She heaved a sigh and she laid back against the pillows. She was staring up at a dark ceiling. She could smell chemicals. And humans. But at the same time, her antennae picked up the presence of another Irken. She turned her neck to find that other, but could not see him. Logic and memory lead her to believe it was Zim, possibly in the same room as the technopathic demon. A light flickered. Hastily, she sat up and turned.

The Dib-human's father. The creator of the technopathic _bitch_ that had caused Tak so much trouble. He was working steadily, on something Tak could not see because his body blocked it. She could not hear a sound from him. Not the noise of his tools or his voice. She could tell he was speaking, though. He shook his head after he had nodded off for a bit.

What was he doing? Preparing to dissect her, most likely. She could see there was a pen in his hand when he raised it to tame his wild black hair. The light bulb he was working by flickered again. Perhaps he was preparing the initial drawing, to sketch in her anatomy later? She shook her head to banish such thoughts, even if she knew they were legitimate fears to have. But, no, if the Professor was going to dissect an Irken, he would have used Zim ages ago.

"Still," she mumbled to herself, "I have every right to be paranoid."

She found Mimi was laying beside her on the coffee table. She and GIR were in a tangled, robotic heap, as if they had been fighting, and someone had switched them off. It was quite a cute picture. Were she in any other situation, she might even have picked them up and cuddled them. Then she frowned and cursed, when had she had such silly thoughts? She watched the light flash across them and wondered when Membrane Senior would notice her. He never did.

And no one had heard her scream?

Zim was recovering from injuries. Of course he did not wake. The demon was too smart to come down where Tak was waiting. Perhaps Zim was keeping her locked up. Smart. If she had a beloved concubine, she would probably do the same thing.

The Dib-human was probably recovering as well, unless— Something in her chest fluttered. — Unless he was _already dead_. She closed her indigo eyes, as strange mix of guilt, fear and joy washing over her. Then her mission was half-way complete. Everything was alright.

Then why did she fell so terrible? Because she was in his house, after killing him? Who was to say she was not going to die in her own turn, now?

She got up and found some one had taken the liberty of leaving a packet of cleansing chalk and a change of clothes on the coffee table. Tak felt no shame in being naked. She was asexual, for the most part. Oh, she had little bits and pieces she had never told anyone about, but they were inconsequential. Half of one thing. All of another. Something in between. But it was all vestigial. It was all useless. When she had been two feet tall, they had been completely useless and dead. At the moment, she felt nothing different.

She always did have a terrible fear of being _completely_ female. Not just partly female.

Suffice to say, she had nothing to hide. There was a certain degree of self respect among the Irken people, though, the kind that required remaining clothed, even though it was unnecessary. She brushed the chalk along her skin and the excess cells and oils were brushed away with it. She put on her clothes next, then looked at the clock.

Two in the morning.

She turned back to Membrane Senior. He was up so late? Or, early? Whatever. He was only a human. Mere humans needed sleep. She was going to confront him about it, but he set his pen down, appeared to yawn, and turned on his heel. Tak suddenly froze, the graphic nightmare returning to her. Would he dissect her? Would he lock her away for what she had done, to study and humiliate her in the name of science?

She straightened her shoulders, angry with her own cowardice. She was an Invader. Maybe not in status, but in spirit. She was an Invader. She knew no fear. It did not matter what torture he infliced upon her. She would not cave. She would not despair.

"Ah! Good morning!"

She caved: her shoulders falling and her hands raising in a position of pleading for mercy. She had to stop herself from falling to her knees. Such was _too_ humbling, even for her. "I... I killed your son!"

"No, no." he said reassuringly, "Dib is fine."

"Why am I here?"

"Because of your head injury, of course." he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Head injury? Tak raised her hand to the back of her head. There was a long row of stitches there. She noticed a little headache, but it might have been her imagination. Professor Membrane yawned and walked away from her with a little wave, "Don't cause any trouble, now."

"How dare you talk down to me?"

He did not respond.

Tak watched him walk up the stairs and frowned. She did not feel tired. Perhaps it was because she had been sleeping all night, and sleep was so rare for Irkens. When she was certain the Professor had left, she climbed the stairs on her own, searching. She found Gaz's room. The bathroom. The water was running, so she assumed he was bathing. She found a cluttered old study next. The master bedroom that she did not bother going into.

She found Dib, laying in bed.

She stood in the door frame, watching him in the moonlight. Her broken PAK leg had been removed. The scratches on his face had been covered up. She tired not to look at him and feel a strange sense of longing and terrible guilt. She tried to be angry with his life, not overjoyed with it. She wanted to be dissatisfied with her failure.

She tightened her hand into a fist. She _was_ upset because she had failed to complete her mission.

_No. _That little piece of her that was making her love corrected her. She was upset because she had been driven to take a life.

Of course, he deserved it! Tak's brows furrowed. So many things this boy had done. He had betrayed her many years ago when he had found out what she was. Love meant nothing to him! Compassion was but a word! If that demon he called sister had not been there, he would have destroyed the empire in the blink of an eye.

And Zim had done nothing to warrant such a beating! He had struck his own sister! Tak had come to deliver that radiator Zim had been waiting for all these months. Imagine her distress when she arrived to see him nearly killed? True, he had ruined her life, but to see him beaten so terribly was awful. It sickened her. Her new found love had driven her to seek revenge for the Irken Empire and the failed Invader.

She found herself calming down just as quickly. Zim was right. He had only been a child, eager to find his place in the world. He had longed to be considered a man. He had wanted nothing more than to be respected by his peers. He was a bright boy. Smart and quick.

He had loved her, too. He had know she was Irken, and she was certain he had still loved her, to an extent. She had been his childhood crush, it was entirely possible he still harbored some feelings for her. Tak knew very little about love, but she was certain it was difficult to suddenly stop. That was why the Irkens had cast it aside.

She knew very little about fear, too, but it was welling up inside her chest, emerging as little tears in her eyes. She, too, was a failure. She had to admit he and his sister had earned a little respect from her, before she had learned what they really were; horrible, artificial life, just like the entire Irken race. But these two were different. He was not a normal human. She was not a human at all.

She took his hand in hers and held it to her chest, and felt at peace. It was her new emotions fooling her. Zim had been right. The Metamorphosis drug had caused them to go haywire. She felt so much more now, emotionally. The split lip, the jab to her windpipe, all the injuries the demon child of Professor Membrane had inflicted on her seemed like nothing at all compared to the fire inside her chest that flared violently when she looked at Dib.

Do you know the feeling of weightlessness? When the ship first hits the atmosphere or the swing reaches the final peak in its arch? That was what her heart felt like. Weightless. Like it would leap out of her chest.

Why? This young man had left her homeland in shambles and had never even stopped to wonder about the consequences of his actions. She watched him breathing in the starlight, trying not to time her breathing with his. Would he still be fond of her when he woke up and realized she had nearly succeeded in killing him? Would he really go so far as to dissect her alive?

His mouth moved and his head turned away. His hand twitched suddenly, his fingers closing to hold hers securely. She was terrified for one moment. She stifled a scream as his head turned towards her and his eyes fluttered open. His hand tightened more, so she could not pull away.

He stared at her for a moment, as if he did not really remember who she was. For one glorious and frightening moment, she thought she had given him amnesia, or that someone had wiped his memories. She was happy and relieved and scared. Her heart felt weightless again, it was beating frantically and jumping as his golden eyes searched her.

"Tak?"

Then it came crashing back down. He remembered. Tallests damn her, he did not sound too happy to see her. "Yes."

He smiled weakly, "You know, I've missed you."

Her heart felt as if it had suddenly vanished. She willingly scooted closer to him, "Really? Ho-How are you?"

"I've been fading in and out of consciousness." he said, turning back to the ceiling, "It's nice to have someone here this time."

"Even if its me?"

"Well, what's wrong with you?"

"Can you forgive me, Dib?"

_It is only because I am stuck here_, she lied to herself, _It's not that I really care about him. Of course not! Were I to feel this... desire... it would be for one of my own kind, not this rotten human! I do not know when I will be able to leave. I might as well make friends._

_ Or I could just kill him._

No. No that would not do. That would make her an enemy of his family fully, and she was treading on thin ice. She could not act until she knew the status of her ship.

He laughed and tried to sit up, then cringed and had to lay back, "After what I've done, I don't think I have the luxury of holding grudges."

She tried sly flattery, "In big places, such small things happen..." [1.]

"Don't patronize me!" he was angry. She could tell by the way his hand tightened again.

She reminded herself that she admired his intelligence for a reason. "Alright." She said, looking down at her knees.

They sat in silence for a while. Tak was certain he was asleep, and so she contemplated taking the pillow and holding it over his face to suffocate him. But something held her back. Perhaps it was the fondness her new found emotions forced her to have. She frowned. How could she, an Irken find a Human attractive?

Zim had managed it, but that was simply because Gaz _had_ managed to keep Dib from killing off their race. But she had really only done it by punching him once in the nose, breaking his glasses, sweeping his feet out from under him, and leaving him unconscious for a few minutes while she just stared at Mothercontrol. Perhaps she had not tampered with it on purpose. Perhaps she was unaware of her powers.

But Zim did prove that it was possible. She had joined forces with Dib because they had shared a common enemy all those years ago, not because she had found him attractive. And she certainly did not find him attractive now. She could not. He was a killer. A violent person, despite how nice he seemed.

She sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry." Dib said weakly, "I'm just..."

She jumped a little. He was trying to sit up again, but she could tell by his quiet and stressed voice he was still in no condition to move. Even genetically modified to be stronger than his species, he was still weakened by the events of only a few hours ago.

"It's alright." She laid her hands on his shoulders and forced him to lay down again. She could tell by the quick path his eyes made down her transformed body his mind was still _fully_ active, despite his indisposed body. She could not explain why she secretly loved it. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just some water, thanks."

Water. Irkens could not stand the water on Earth, it was so terribly polluted, but humans needed it to live. Dib had either forgotten that in his state, or he meant no harm by it. With out a word she left the room and descended the stairs in darkness. She fetched a glass and ran filtered water from the sink into it, careful not to get any on her hands. He was struggling to sit up when she returned, so with a soft smile he could not see because of the shadows, she adjusted the pillows for him and set him upright.

"Thank you." he said as she sat down beside him again.

She remained in the chair, her eyes on the floor, even as he lifted the glass to his lips with a shaking hand. She did not feel sorry for him. It was remorse that she had not finished the job properly. That was it.

"Where are you going to go?"

Her eyes flicked to him for just a second, and even barely so. She looked down again, her knees pressing together and her hands fidgeting in front of her. She did not know. She had not been outside to assess the damage done to her ship yet. She did not even know if there was a ship to assess.

"I-I don't know." she said against her better judgement. She did not want him to know, or even believe that she was not in complete control of her situation, but at the same time, she could not think of a lie. Back to Irk? Impossible. Even if she could, it was not a worthwhile choice. But she had to report back to the Tallests. She had to report back to her boss. She was no longer an Irken soldier, but a delivery girl. She had to bring money into her country again by working.

Dib nodded, "You need your ship fixed."

"Yes."

"I can do that."

"You will take too long to recover. Zim and I are more familiar with Irken technology than you are."

_And besides! _she added to herself, _The last time you tampered with Irken military technology, you ruined the Empire. I do _not_ want to be indebted to you._

Of course, the fact that she was still alive proved she already was. She frowned and angrily looked towards a UFO poster on his wall, trying to ignore what was staring her right in the face. In her anger, she had flown so close to the city. She had caused unexplainable damage to public property. Someone had seen her. Someone credible and important that people would believe. Even if no one had, someone would ask questions. Someone would find her. She was in danger if she remained. Not all scientist were as merciful as Professor Membrane. She shuddered and shrunk a little, then she said it out loud, "I know someone saw me."

Dib barely responded, but she felt like he said something worth while.

"What?"

"You can stay here." he said, "I don't mind at all."

His eyes closed again and his head fell to his shoulder. Asleep again. Tak laid him down and contemplated remaining, but decided she could not stand the sight of him, so she got to her feet and left the room, closing the door behind her. She was, for the most part, alone again. She sighed and descended the stairs and sat down on the couch. Her insides turning and her head buzzing.

She had failed to take out the Dib-human and return his sister to Dirt.

She had failed to have Mothercontrol repaired, then.

She had been seen.

And depending on the extent of damage, she _may_ have let the radiator she was supposed to give to Zim get ruined.

On top of all that, she was falling prey to pitiful human feelings of longing and love! She had strived to be above that, even when the PAKs started their mass malfunction. She had closed her eyes and turned her back on love. What made the Dib-human so special?

She sighed. Well, as an Invader, she admired him. He had used his resourses efficiently. He had targeted his enemies' weakness and gone strait for the throat. And he had done it at the tender age of twelve. Possibly thirteen. Such an unlucky age.

As a person? He was smart. One did not necessary need to fawn over him to acknowledge that, though. She _supposed_ by human standards he was fairly attractive. He was physically fit and was a proficient fighter, when there was not a sharp piece of metal lodged in his diaphragm.

But by Irken standards? What was beauty? Weakness, possibly. Streamlined. Efficient. A thing of the past. Useless.

"Well cut of my antennae and lay eggs in my stomach!" she grumbled, leaning over until her head rested on her knees, "Why does this have to happen?"

She sighed heavily and felt tears pricking her eyes. An Invader that had failed their mission so terribly only had one real choice. It was deactivation or exile. Zim had chosen exile when the choice had been given to him. Most of Irk assumed it was because he was afriad of death. She could see now that it was probably just because of that purple-haired technopath.

"She _is_ a worthy investment." she said, a drop of moisture falling into the fabric of her cargo pants. So was Dib.

Of course, she had to get back to work. The Empire needed the money she made to get back on its feet. No one really _knew_ of her mission. Just her. She could snuff it out easily enough. Lying was no big deal. But her ship was the thing. If it was destroyed beyond repair, how could she get away?

She could not. She would have to wait until someone came to pick her up. And she was not that important, was she? There were plenty of starving Irkens would would eagerly take her job. The would make money just as well.

So, in reality, she was useless. She stared at GIR and Mimi curled up on the coffee table. A knew member had joined their slumberclub. A cyborg cat. Tak laid down herself, and felt something plastic under her head. In the darkness, she could easily see that it was the television remote.

Well, sleeping was out of the question. So was leaving, really. Of course, it would be smarter to set off to Zim's place at night. No one would see her. But it would be daylight soon, and she had no idea where his base was in relation to here. Mimi's sense of direction had been off since the first mishap on Earth. She was not much use to her at all.

So, she might as well watch a little TV. She could see the news, and hear if anyone was speaking of her. It would do nothing to settle her feelings, but she might as well give it a shot. She reached for the remote and turned the television on. A documentary on some kind of ethnic dance was playing.

She changed the channel. Nothing decent was on at two in the morning.

Neither was news, apparently.

She went back to the documentary on dance. It was better than violence and sex, at least. It was better than filthy human programing by a long shot. Tak rested her chin on her hands and watched the dancers move in unison. Their heeled shoes made loud clicks against the wooden dance floor. Their movements were strong and quick.

"Where does one go to learn this?" she asked, one brow raising.

Andalusia. The word on the screen read. Tak frowned. The map showed Spain. That was an ocean away. She would need her ship to get there.

"I shouldn't." She said, "No one has danced on Irk in years."

Of course, what else could she do with a useless ship? Sit here and be observed by Membrane? He would probably not hurt her, but it was still a dull life. Chased by Dib? A delightful prospect, but not one she wanted to face right now. She would be a burden on Zim. She would have to look every day at that little human brat that had so easily ensnared him.

She watched those swishing, colorful skirts and clicking heels and she was filled with the urge to dance as well. She looked down at her feet and wondered if she had the rythm for it. She knew she had the coordination and the speed. Could one use castanets with only three fingers?

She looked back up at the screen. Probably. And that was what scared her.

Angrily, she changed the channel to some stupid human horror film, "No one has danced on Irk in years."

* * *

[1.] anyone who can name the bollywood movie that line is from gets a cookie!

Wooho! Tak gets the spotlight! Cool, huh? We are totally going to have a DaTr date with all this down time!


	9. Chapter 9

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed)

IT IS _OFFICIAL!_ I have started work on the Prequel, _Invader Dib!_ I've got beginning planned out, some of chapter two, and I have started chapter one. I have written the last paragraphs, too. You guys won't get to read it, till, like, the end of summer, though

Sentences in italics most likely mean Zim and Tak are speaking Irken.

* * *

Chapter nine: Morning routine, now with Doom.

The feel of Gaz's hair against his chin roused him from the state of rest he usually called sleep. It was sleep, in the academic sense. He did not move. Sometimes he dreamed. It was more relaxed thought, though, as opposed to actually sleep. He saw no pictures. Only thoughts of what he would do or would not do. Or perhaps what he had done, if he was ashamed or frightened or dwelling on the past he would rather snuff out.

"You okay, Zim?"

"I'm fine."

"It's not _his_ fault you blew up Membrane Labs, Dib."

Zim chuckled and realised fairly quickly she was not actually speaking to him. She hummed and fell back into restful silence, turning away from him, opting instead to cuddle Minimoose. He sat up and pouted a little, but she was too lost in her dreams to see it. He grinned softly and cleared the hair from her eyes, then he crossed his arms over his featureless chest and stared at the window.

It had gotten him beat up, that window. He stared at his hands. They were in a conspiracy. Always making him think of Gaz. She might be part of it, too. Saving the Irken Empire! His grin broadened and he looked down at her. The _nerve_!

His ribs still smarted every time he breathed, but other than that, he was fine.

He got up and searched the room for a change of clothes and his cleansing chalk. He ran it quickly over his skin until the oil that had accumulated over the night was absorbed and brushed away with the dust. He jerked on his clothes, then, running over where everyone was and what they were probably doing, to plan his day accordingly.

Tak was on the couch, and if she knew what was good for her, she was still sleeping. He had told GIR and Mimi to watch her when they re-activated. Mimi was probably the more adept that GIR was at such things, of course. GIR was simply there because he was a headache and seemed to cock-block Zim every chance he got (or, the basic equivalent of it, anyway.) Mimimoose was with them, but shut off for the night.

Dib was in the room across the hallway, because Membrane trusted Zim's own medical expertise over any doctor's. He might still be asleep. Zim did not really know. Professor Membrane had been sleeping, but he was probably up cooking now.

Gaz turned again, holding the snoozing Minimoose to her cheek. Zim's skin crawled with silent desire and he sat down beside her. Dib would probably wake up soon. He should seize the chance now. He reached to take Minimoose from her arm, but she turned again, seemingly aware of what he was doing.

"Nooo..." she grumbled, "Five more minutes, Zim. I don't _want_ to go to Skool."

Skool! It was only Wenesday. Zim looked at the clock. She would be late! Terribly late!

Then again, she _had_ been through a great deal yesterday. He had been poised to shake her up, but decided against it. She had been up when he had come in again, and that had been well into the middle of the night. He had moved the car, put a new radiator in it, this one was just as poor as the first one. He had called Skoodge, then the Tallest. He had done a great many things. Unimportant things. Things he never would have done if he had known she was waiting for him. She had been up, worried about him. He had seen how tired she was, how drawn she had been with anxiety.

"Alright." he said softly, "Skip today. I could teach you more than they ever could."

She turned to him groggily and sat up, "Mmwha?"

"It is Wednesday." he said, "We'll be late."

"Ohmm." she said sleepily. Then she yawned. Zim found himself smiling. She was cute when she yawned. She buried her head in the pillow and said something muffled.

Zim leaned closer to hear, "What?"

"Mm mrph m mrff merrph mmk mch mmeer Meem."

His brow knitted, "O-okay?"

"Mrk mll mill meem."

"I... I see your point."

"Mrph."

Not really sure what she had said, Zim shrugged and walked across the hallway. Softly, he opened the door to DibÕs room. Her brother was still asleep, but from the glass of water by his bedside, he had been up in the night. He was going to be fine. The Irken walked over to his bedside and tore back the sheets to get a better look at the wound in Dib's stomach.

Quickly, fleetingly, a terrible thought entered his head. _He should have _died_!_ His mind screamed _Tak was _right_ to kill him._ Zim shook his head and banished the thoughts. Yes. His ribs hurt and there was still a cut on the side of Gaz's face, but Dib's death would not make it heal faster. His death would not undo any damage.

It would only cause more problems, really.

He looked at the tiny, meticulous stitches. His frowned deepened. He had been so _tempted_ to end Dib-creature's life with he had been under his knife and at the mercy of his needle. He had thought of Gaz, though. Of how she would know at once it had been deliberate and of how she never would forgive him.

He covered him up again and checked his vital signs. He was fine. For now.

He turned on his heel. Tak was next. She was either raising hell or biding her time, and Zim was not sure which was worse.

She was curled up on the couch, though, with Mimi sitting on the arm rest, watching her attentively. GIR sat on the other side, his legs swinging and a lolipop in his mouth. Zim cringed in anticipation before the paltry SIR unit even opened his mouth. He had improved GIR, of course. After he had been officially banished, and after Skoodge had sent the parts to him, it had been his first order of business. However, he had never been able to teach him the concept of 'quiet.'

"H—" GIR started, waving his hand.

Mimi shot at him, her hand flying off and hitting him in the mouth. He was sent flying into a dustbin and Zim did not hear another peep from him. Tak grimaced a little with the sound, and stirred, but she did not wake. It was much quieter than any greeting GIR would have given him.

"Good job, Mimi!" Zim said quietly, walking over to the dust bin and taking GIR out. The outdated SIR unit saluted and resumed watching her master, who turned and mumbled something, curling tighter into a ball. She did not wake.

He kept his hand over GIR's mouth as he made his way to the backyard to put him out.

He set him down to put on his disguise, and the two bright cyan looked at him, "But I wanna make waffles."

"Professor Membrane made it very clear, GIR, you are _not_ allowed to into the kitchen."

"But... _Waffles_!"

Zim could not resist those glowing eyes, so he sighed and shook his head, "All right, GIR, you may return to the base and make waffles."

He had to drop down lightening fast and cover the robot's mouth. He only barely managed to muffle the word "_WAAAAFFLES!"_ as the SIR unit donned his disguise and flew out the front door, dragging Zim across the living room, still trying to keep him quite. He hit his head on the doormat as GIR broke away from his hands. Membrane had come to the kitchen door to watch the spectacle, and he shook his head when Zim pushed himself up on his elbows and looked back to him. He knew he had just invited doom upon his house. When he returned to the base, he would find it covered in scorch marks and batter.

He scanned the kitchen for something to eat. It was not his house, but the Professor was not going to let him starve. If there was one other place in the city to get decent food, it was the Membrane household. Zim suspected it was only because Membrane Labs often experimented with different chemicals and processes used for agriculture. Membrane Senior, not wanted to just put his underlings' health on the line, used himself and his children and test subjects.

But that was only when he was really, really sure nothing bad would happen.

He looked at Zim like he had a million questions. It was a mix of curiosity (he and Dib were truely father and son, they were always curious) and feigned disinterest. Of contempt and of a strange fondness. Zim was well aware of the reason for this, and though he did not know how to react, he was glad it was not all contempt. He avoided the Professor's eyes, and heard him turn away. He must have realised he had been staring.

Zim did not really care. He was glad to see the professor was looking out for his... 'research.' He contemplated asking him just what his 'research' was, but he knew he would not get any answer.

"Dib was up last night."

"Yes, I heard him and his green lady-friend talking. Well, back to work." Professor Membrane turned on his heel, a mug of coffee in one hand. Zim watched him go, a few questions bubbling up, until he could not take it any more.

"Excuse me, Professor, may I ask something?"

He turned, but said nothing.

"How could Tak have gotten the impression that your daughter was... a demon?"

The older human looked at Tak, then to the stairs. He sighed heavily and looked back at Zim. The Irken's hands were wringing in front of him, his red eyes growing with concern and a little fear.

"You... You refered to her as 'research' yesterday." he continued, "Zim was a scientist too, so I understand if she _is_ an experiment, the subject could be... a difficult one to discuss."

He remembered his own failures, he had a great many of them. His hands tightened before him. It would kill him to hear the Professor call Gaz a failed experiment. She was not a failure. She had been alive sixteen earth-years and not caused wide spread destruction. She was not unhealthy or too terribly dangerous, unless angered. That seemed like a success to him. At least, she was a step in the right direction.

The Professor was about to say something, but Gaz walked down the stairs, clad in only yesterday's sweater vest. [1.] His explanation was lost in a little glare. It was not a threat to his mortality. It was just a warning of bodily harm. Of perhaps kicking him out of the house in the next rainstorm. Of moving far away and taking his 'research' with him.

Or of locking him away in Membrane Labs for an extended period of time, and turning the fire-sprinklers on at variable intervals.

She lazily walked towards him, his sweater vest riding up her legs and her arms outstretched. He tried not to look at her father, and was secretly glad that he was physically lacking. Still, his hands were aching to touch that exposed skin. And she looked so nice in that sweater vest. Purple was definitely her color. When she reached him at the kitchen door, she ran her hands over his smooth skin and whispered, "'Morning, my— Oh! Dad's home..." she cast her eyes down and the color rose in her cheeks, "Nevermind." Then she walked past him into the kitchen, shrinking. She hissed softly "Love Pig, bring me some sweatpants!"

"Of course." he said, walking away and up the stairs, chuckeling a little.

"Sorry you had to see that, Dad."

"It's quite alright."

The Professor had descended into his basement lab when Zim returned, the asked for garment in his hand. He had locked the door behind him. Zim, though worried and curious, decided that there was nothing for it, and he handed Gaz her sweatpants.

"That was embarassing." she said as she stepped into them.

"Then why did you do it?" he asked, soaking up the sight of her skin as it was hidden behind dark blue lounge wear. There would be other mornings, of course. He did not feel cheated.

"'Cause I thought you'd like it!" she hissed, "I thought Dad had gone to work!"

"Well," he said encouragingly, "I did like it."

She sat down across from him, covering her eyes. She grumbled and massaged her temples as if her head hurt terribly. Zim, unsure of the reason, got up to prepare her coffee. When he turned back around, she was still sitting there.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine, fine. Just nearly flashed my Dad, no worries."

It was best to change the subject. "Are you going to Skool today?"

"No." she grumbled, "I am staying here to keep an eye on Dib. Tak might kill him."

Tak said something that roughly translated to, "_Shut up, technopathic bitch!" _Zim and Gaz both turned to the couch. The last finger on her right hand was raised in the general symbol for 'piss off' on Irk. She let her hand fall, and the rest of her gradually rose.

"Tak!"

"Good morning," she said, turning to them, "Love Pigs."

Gaz frowned nervously and her hands unfolded themselves, pressing flat on the table. Zim reached out for her, and his fingers gently brushed against her wrist. "You can relax, Gaz. Tak is not going to misbehave."

She turned from the other Irken back to him, her eyes narrowing, "Really?"

"I believe the Reverse Formula made her a bit... drowsy." As if to confirm his statement, Tak's head hit the table and she grumbled something else in Irken, "It will wear off eventually." Zim assured her.

_"I've developed a crush on the Dib-monster."_ she said it in Irken so Gaz would not understand.

_ "Such things do happen." _Zim replied in their native tongue.

_"Such things happen because of your Meta-morphine."_

_ "Metamorphosis Drug."_

"Morphine's a drug." she responded in English, sitting up, "But I need a neck rub. Mimi?"

The red eyes robot landed on the back of her chair and her little metal hands began to massage Tak's slim neck. She closed her eyes and slouched, sighing. She waved Gaz away, "Go to school. The worst I can do to your filthy brother is club him over the head. GIR and Minimoose will make sure I do not touch him."

Gaz frowned. Clearly, she did not believe her. Zim gave her a reassuring smile, "Go get ready, Gaz. I will drive you."

She looked at him, then back at Tak, skeptical. Eventually, she looked back at his smile and she found herself smiling as well, "Very well, my beloved Overlord."

With a little wink and a mimed kiss she walked away.

"Zim, you have to do something."

"About what?"

"About _me_." she said, "I do not _want_ to be attracted to the fool! Why do the gods play such cruel jokes on me?"

Zim sighed and watched his hands. Tak folded her arms and scoffed as he said softly, "I do not know, Tak."

"How did you fight it? Once you discovered them?"

"I didn't." he looked up at her, "I just... hid them away."

He would have given anything to understand the expression on her face. She looked at him as if he were a coward. As if she could not possibly use the same methods as he did. But what could he do? He had no advice for her. After all, look at what hidden indulgence had caused him. True, he was fine now. He could easily forgive the Dib-human for his fit of madness. He had overstepped his boundaries.

She sighed and crossed her arms, "I think I might remain here."

"Oh?"

"Going back to the Empire is pointless. I decided that last night. Of course, staying here is foolish as well." She bit her lip and turned her indigo eyes to him, "Zim, did anyone spot me?"

It took him awhile to figure out what she meant, but he realized it soon enough. She meant yesterday, when she was flying in her ship so low to the ground. "I don't know." he said, "I've been..."

"Preoccupied." she spit it out like she hated him for it.

He felt his face grow dark, "Yes."

She sighed in frustration, and said no more, Mimi continued to massage her neck, unphased by the semi-harsh words. Yet another person that was angry with him. Zim stood up, "Even if you _do_ get your strength back, you _won't_ hurt the Dib-human, will you?"

"My strength has been back." she said, "But I have been told — _for now _— I am in no danger from him. He faces none from me."

"So, that's a yes?"

"Of course, fool.' she said, "Go. Distract yourself with the human girl. I will not begrudge you your... private time."

"If you want me to stay..."

"No." she looked out the window, "I am fine. I will lay down again, and Mimi will give me a back massage. In time the Dib-human will wake up, and we can keep each other's company."

"You're sure?" he asked, because he was not convinced. He was certain she was struggling in some way. She could handle it alone. He knew she could because he had himself, but he would have given anything for someone to reach out to. He was certain she felt the same. "Because I can drop Gaz off and—"

"She will need you." she said, "Call it a woman's intuition, but I am certain of this."

He folded his arms and looked her over. She was silent for along while, until her pride won over his patience and he turned around. He had lost the battle of wills, of course, but he would be back in the afternoon to collect either Gaz or Tak, because they could not all spend weeks in the same house while they were waiting for Dib to recover and for Tak to chose her homeland or convenience.

"Where is my ship?" she asked, "I might find time to check on it."

"In the garage." he answered, "But it won't get off-planet anymore. Not with serious repairs—"

"Which the likes of you and I cannot do?"

"... Yes." he confessed, "I-I'm sorry, Tak, I just..."

He had seen the ship that was going to take Gaz away from him, and he had been unable to take it. Call it what you will. Possessiveness. Blood lust. A snap decision. He had seen a future with out her, and with Dib dead, taking one away was enough, but both? If Tak had been close enough, he would have killed her, too. He was glad he did not. Killing was pointless this far out in the galaxy, and he was already trying to avoid the Earth authorities as much as possible.

"Might I come to your base this afternoon and call the Tallest?"

"If you want." he shrugged, "They might ignore you, though. They don't normally answer calls from Earth."

His chance communication with them last night had been a fluke.

"So, very little chance of getting help anyway, eh?"

"Skoodge keeps his line open." Zim offered, "He sends me everything I need."

"How often?"

"Once every two years."

"Think he'll send the parts?"

"Most likely. He may just send what you need. Normally its just scrap metal."

"An hidden inside are your supplies?"

"He is an excellent smuggler, isn't he?"

"And does he just send you food and cleansing chalk, or does he send that Vortian Opium, too?"

"It's only for the money!" [2.]

And it was true. He never touched the stuff. He tried it once and he had hated it. The incredible calm was too much, and when the drug wore off, nothing had changed. Drugs were a nightmare. He hated them. Tak had her emotions to stay away from like the plague. For Zim? It was drugs.

Skoodge, however, knew he needed the income, so when ever there was a surplus, he sent most of it to Zim to keep profits under control and the operation secret. There could _not_ be leftovers when one was dealing with contraband as terrible and illegal and Vortian Opium, it would leave a trail for the authorities to follow, a store house to find. There was no room for extra cash, it would invite larger drug barons to take over his operation. Skoodge wanted to be the ringleader that took over, not the one that got swallowed up.

Zim sold it as quickly as possible, and it was always a terrifying struggle. Once he had nearly gotten caught. Once he had sold it to a fellow student, and had never been able to look him in the eye again. Once he had gotten into a fight with other dealers, and they had stolen it to sample it, under the impression that it was cocaine. They were dead with in minutes. Once, there was too much and he was trying to get rid of it for weeks, then he gave up and threw it in the city sess pool.

Which had killed most of the rats.

But they died happy.

Tak laughed at him, "Look at you! Scared as a Smeet before its existence exam!" He could not help but glare at her, and her expression immediately darkned. Not a dangerous or angry one. A genuinely depressed darkness spread over her face, and Zim stopped glaring. She shuddered a bit, "And look at me." she whispered, "As uneasy as an intoxicated control brain."

"I'm sorry, Tak."

"Not you're fault." she laughed bitterly. She got to her feet and wrapped her arms around herself, as if she was cold, she walked towards the little kitchen window and stared outside, hissing, "No, no. I knew what was going to happen the moment I drove the needle into my skin. I was going to become a monster, wracked with pain and emotions, growing so grotesque I would have to beg the Tallests to deactivate me, but at least the Empire would be set right. Who would have thought that you, the biggest faliure of all time—"

"Tak—"

"OF ALL TIME!" she turned sharply, her eyes flashing, "Would have a _fail-safe_! You're the _Almighty Zim!_ You're nothing but blunders! You don't have back up plans!"

She threw her arms in the air. He kept his mouth shut for the moment. An angry Tak was not a Tak to be crossed. She was screaming at him in Irken now, because Gaz had walked down the stairs, her hair half dry and unbrushed. She was hastily raking a comb through it, but at the sight of Tak's rampage, she stopped and stepped back.

"_I've nearly killed him and I feel guilty. I was an Invader, guilt is not in my vocabulary! But no- No! You and your Metamorphosis Drug just had to prey upon the human emotions she gave me. Not only guilt. No, lust too. Hell, lust for _him_._" At which point she pointed towards Dib's room, Gaz looked very confused, because she was also in the line of Tak's finger. She stepped away, probably wishing desperately she spoke their language, "_I was supposed to kill him, but now I'm melting at the sight of him. Who the fuck does that? I'm practically a whore!"_

"_I must admit that is strange._" Zim mused, "_Even I have a reason for liking Gaz."_

_"So much as I can tell, I am attracted to his blood lust and dangerous hidden side! Perhaps because it is the logical thing, because he seems to be fond of me!" _she shouted at him, "_But either way, it is illogical! I won't love him, Zim, not because he's a skilled Invader or because it will get him to spare me. I am not a whore! I am NOT a whore._

"_But I will spare him._" her voice lowered, "_For now. Because my body chemistry will not permit me to pick up a knife. But rest assured, Zim, you cannot spare him simply by doing nothing. Refuse to cure me of this... Love sickness... and I _will_ break his heart just as I would his neck."_

"_So... If I fix this, you'll kill him? And if I don't, you'll get on his good side, _then_ kill him?"_

"_Fool proof, no?"_

"_Then why bother treating you?"_

She slugged him with an angry shriek, "_How the hell should I know? I've got more estrogen in my system than... Than... Than _her!" she poin-=ted at Gaz, "_And she's ovulating!" _[3.]

"_I don't need you to tell me those things._" Zim said, picking himself up. He straightened his collar, saying in English "Besides, her hormone levels are none of your concern."

She gaped at him. He felt himself smirking. She had such a cute little gape, could anyone blame him for deliberately freaking her out from time to time?

"Why were you—?"

"Come, Gaz, we're leaving." He took her arm, as she looked from him to the enraged Tak, "I want you to behave yourself, Tak."

He knew by the conflicted glimmer in her eye that she would. For the most part. For about a week, until she got over her human emotions and started thinking about the mission again.

"Promise you won't kill him for a week?"

Angrily, she looked at Gaz, then up the stairs, then back to him. She glowered and crossed her arms, "_Fine. I promise._"

"Zim!" Gaz exclaimed as he lead her away, "We can't possibly leave—"

"An Irken does not normally break their word. I believe we can trust Tak."

The angry slam of the door told them, yes, she could be trusted. For now. But she was not happy about it. Dib would not live long on her watch. Maybe a week, maybe more if she felt merciful. Maybe.

Maybe that was not GIR they heard, screaming "WAFFLES!"

* * *

[1.] Actually, Sideos, that was for me.

[2.] He's loaded, btw. For various reasons.

[3.] Yeah, ew. Sorry about that. I could not think of another line.

Oh ho ho! What could Tak _possibly_ be planning?

You won't get to know for THREE MORE CHAPTERS! MUA HAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHHAHA!


	10. Chapter 10

Meta-Morphine

(Disclaimed)

I hate myself right now. I wrote this chapter out on notebook paper before typing it up. In _red _ink, because I had no black pen. My eyes _HURT_.

Also, this chapter is useless. Plot relevence: 2%. Light-to-medium smut: 98%

Completely. Friggen. Useless. But its kinda cute.

Besides, I want the crux of the story to be at the ever-cliche 13, so yeah, we need filler with Gaz and Zim, then crunch the action up with Dib and Tak, that (SPOILER) can happen in chapter 13.

* * *

Chapter ten: Rumors.

Rumors fluttered around them like moths in a lightbulb store. Gaz bit her lip so hard she feared it would bruise. She knew how bad it looked: she was showing up with _Zim_ and _Dib_ was no where to be seen. Just after the two had gotten into a fight, of which _Dib_ had been the undesputed victor and _she_ had been the cause.

That, and the whole football field was destroyed, and no one knew why. There were tire tracks in the parking lot and scorch marks in the front court yard. There was blood on the pavement and a stop sign's pole was bent over. There was a torn sleeve snagged on the fence which _no one_ could identify. It looked like a battle had happened.

She quickly looked at Zim, a battle _had_ happened.

"What do we do?"

"Keep walking."

"People are staring." And for one in her life, she actually _cared_.

"I know." he whispered back, "You want to give them a show?"

"Wha-What do you mean?"

He chucked a bit. They had reached the cross in the hallways. Gaz would go ahead, he would go right. They stopped for a moment, and heads were poking out of doors to get a look at them. She was slightly scared fro a moment. There was a gleam in his eye. The kind of gleam that was accompanied by an outbrust. She stepped towards him, hoping to stop it before he shouted something that would humiliate both of them.

"I am so sorry my cousin put your brother in the hospital!" he said loudly, "I _warned_ him. And no one can say I did not."

"ZIM!"

Then, with a little nod, he walked away. Gaz stared after him, flustered. Now that it was _over_ she almost wished he had said something more. She turned on her heel and tightened her grip on her violin case.

"Who is his cousin?"

"I don't know, but I'll bet she can kick ass."

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Today was going to suck. Rumors would fly regarding their affairs and he would dispell them. He was a better liar than she was, strangely enough. She knew it, and she was okay with it. She just prayed she could dispell rumors just as completely as he could.

She was instantly swarmed as soon as she set foot in her English class. All eyes were on her, all mouths grinning, all fangs protruding. Vampires of gossip. Carrytale Cheshire Cats. First Sara and Zita. Then Gretchen. Then Mary. She tried to keep the anxiety out of her eyes, but it was a hopeless struggle, they could smell it, even if she acted like nothing had happened.

"Did you _really_ sleep with him?"

"Well..." she covered her mouth. They gasped and more came over. Gaz glared at them. She was in advanced placement English for a reason, and this was _not_ it. She had come here to deal with _mature_ students who focused on their studies and kept their noses out of her business, "Hell no!"

But it was just too late. They stared at her, filled with some twisted, sick epiffany. Her face darkened in anger and some humiliation — not because it had happened, but necause they _knew_. They knew and all eyes would turn to Zim and gape. Because he had been the first to get in her pants, and everyone knew she was an unshagable bitch, and everyone knew Zim was a socially awkward... something. And now everything had turned on its head. Because she had caved.

She stood up, partly for his reputation, partly because she was tempted to leave completely, "Nothing happened between us."

It was a bloody lie. She tried not to look like a liar. She tried to keep the blush out of her face as she remembered _everything_ that they had done, "And... and nothing ever will. I do not feel that way about _ anyone_. And neither does Zim."

"You're lyyyying." Sara teased, "You're a dirty liar."

"Was he any good?"

"I will _destroy you_."

Becaue it had been absolutely fantastic, and Zita having the _gaul_ to ask was just asking for trouble. It was ruining the image she had projected. She _knew_ the vaule of secrets. _Their_ secrets. Something primal took over, an urge to defend her territory. She could not put her finger on it. She was just mad. She contemplated punching her, but that would only add more fuel to the fire and pretty much set their suspitions in stone.

"And now you're getting defensive!" Zita exclaimed, grinning and pointing at her balled fists. But she did step out of harm's way, "How cute!"

The teacher called the class in line. Gaz hardly paid attention. _The Great Gatsby_ meant nothing her her right now. She brooded, and it was all she could do at the moment. The others looked at her and snickered. They seemed happy for her, and the fact that even someone as odd as her could find love. Or at least get some.

It was like it was all they had ever wanted. It fufilled their wildest dreams. Gaz hated them for it, partly because those were supposed to be _her _dreams. _Zim's_ dreams. They had no place in their life.

Then class ended. She ran out because she did not want to speak with them again. They could gossip amungest themselves for all she cared. Everyone knew, and she could not understand why. She hated it, probably because no one would leave her and Zim alone and she _knew_ the value of their secrets.

She stopped in her tracks, lost in the croud. But not really, thanks to the new slew of rumors, she stood out. People she hardly knew were just gaping at her, like fish on display, but _she_ felt like the one set on a pedistal. She looked around for Zim, suddenly feeling useless and helpless, suddenly needed to find comfort in his embrace.

Then she stopped searching and frowned at herself.

She was _not_ helpless. It sickened her that she had to remind herself of the fact that there _was_ a Gaz before there was Gaz and Zim. There would be a Zim for years after _they_ stopped being. She was _not_ useless. Even from a young age, she had been the toughest girl in the class, with the exception of Torque Smacky and perhaps Tak, there was no one in the Skool she could not best. Even her own brother.

When she was ten she had saved an entire _planet_.

Hell, she had gotten an alien to fall in love with her.

She _might_ have reprogrammed Mothercontrol with only her mind.

And that was pretty epic.

"Let them talk!" she whispered to herself. She resumed walking, this time to her next class, "Let the _rabble_ talk."

And they _did_ talk. Rumors would fly and hell would break loose. Rumors would fly like brown nightengales and black ravens and little white moths. They crawled along skin like spiders and slighered about the ankles of Skoolchildren like vile, contemptable snakes. From Sara to Brian. Brian to the Letter M. M to Keef. Keef to Poonchy. Poonchy to Zita who already knew, but by this time Mary had heard a different story and Brian had changed a detail. Then the Letter M changed another.

So now Dib was dead and Gaz was pregnant and the Professor had kicked her out and Zim's cousin was a supermodle-turned-actress and Mary was handing her number out on index cards. And Gaz hardly heard any of it because Dib was laying at home in bed and the only other person in the house was the person who had sworn to kill him and even if she had promised she would not, Gaz was certain it was an empty vow, even if she wanted to trust the female Irken she just knew she was bad news and—

"I'm so sorry for your loss." said a random student some time later as she rubbed Gaz's belly. [1.]

Gaz looked down at her, utterly confused. She had been on her way to her third class, and she knew rumors were going around, but for the life of her, she could not put two-and-two together. She just stared stupidly at the girl, who looked back up at her with a bright smile, "Will you name your son after him?"

"What?"

"We aren't having a son!" Came a distinctive voice. A three-fingerd hand laid on her shoulder, "And Dib is still alive."

"So, it's a girl, then?"

"THE ALMIGHTY ZIM _DEMANDS_ YOU GIVE HIM AND THE GAZ-TEMPTRESS A MOMENT OF _PRIVACY_."

Then he threw her over his shoulder, turned on his heel, and walked away. Gaz tried not to look too exited or confused as she watched the curious, intrigued faces turn after her while he carried her off.

"Zim, what are you doing?" she asked, "I'm not in any trouble, am I?"

"Trouble, Gaz-dearest?" he asked, holding her steady as he kicked open the door, "No."

"Then why are you carrying me?"

"Silly Little Gaz!" Zim exclaimed, laughing, "Zim does not requre a locigal reason to assert his dominance."

She did what any girl would do in her situation. She kicked him in the crotch, because the collective experiance of females around the world lead her to that end. Zim did not drop her, or crumble in pain. He laughed.

Of course. Asexual.

Bastard.

"But _seriously_ my master," she said dryly, "It may be an old Irken custom, but on Earth—"

"You call it 'abduction'"he said smoothly, "I am well aware of this—"

"Zim, I have a class." It was not like she cared if she missed it, but she could not see where they were going. Only where they had been. The students were getting less and less frequent. She cared what Zim was planning. His car was gone, and she did _not_ want to do anything scandelous on Skool grounds. At least, not in plain view.

"Which class?"

"Biology."

He snickered. She knew what he was thinking. That they could learn more about 'biology' behind the school, or in bed, than she could spending her life taking classes. "Can it, Zim."

"Zim said _nothing_." he set her down, then. He had carried to a fairly secluded spot. No windows. No doors. Just a nice view of the field out back, which no one was in because it was completely demolished. He placed his hands on her waist, under her shirt. "Zim wants you. Surrender."

"Well, Gaz wants to avoid more rumors spreading, so pick me up again, carry me to class, and stop talking in third person."

He was at it again, though. Her argument was invalid. His hands were going wild, searching for gaps in her clothes and the most sensitive places on her skin. He already _knew_ of course. He had marked them on a diagram, and she had _seen_ him do it, too. It was strange and cute and creepy. Last night, when she was asleep, he had searched her closet, memorizing every garment and the quickest way to get her of it it. She knew because he had gotten up in the night and _saw him_ rifleing through her lingere. [2.] Jerk.

"Zim?"

She only not a hungry purr in response.

"When you touch me, what do you feel?"

He did not say a word. He was in the zone. Completely focused on her. The mission was cear. Everything else fell away. Skoolbooks, sweater vest, disguise, game console. It was her. Nothing else. If they were in his base that T-shirt she was wearing would be torn off in two seconds and when she was asleep he would get her five more.

"Zim."

He sighed into her neck, "I understand your persistance. Communication _is_ a cornerstone of a good relationship."

"So answer the question."

"You go first."

"What?"

"What do you feel?"

"I feel like _destroying you_!" she hissed, trying to push him away so she could slug him.

But he held on tightly, and he whined, "Gaz temptress..."

"I am _no_ temptress."

"Enough banter!" he said, "Feed Zim's ego and answer his question."

"I feel your tongue in my ear."

"Skirt the issue further." he warned seductively, "And I will use more... _advanced_ torture techniques." His hands rested on her hips, and a deep growl welled up in his throat. With his hands otherwise occupied, she assumed it was the legs of his PAK that were messing with the fastening of her jeans.

_Not here!_ her mind screamed, _I-I mean, GOD YES, but NOT HERE!_

"Okay!" she exclaimed, trying to get away. Someone might see. Or, someone might hear, if nothing else. Either way, it was embarassing. Such things! In _public?_ It was too kinky, even for her! "Let me think!"

The PAK legs zipped and buttoned her jeans again. She comtemplated beating the tar of of him and leaving him bound and gaged with his own tie, but this was Zim. He had been beaten up yesterday already. And she had just thrown herself at him, it was a little too late to play hard to get. Besides, she did not want too, his teeth felt so facinating against her neck, his hands were cool and comforting against her back — even he took note of his obsession with her back. She closed her eyes and toyed with the tip of his antenna, it caused him to shiver against her in the most delightful fashion, the tiny hairs a strange tickle against her fingers.

What did she feel?

Well, satisfied, for one. Loved, for another. Reassured that _someone_ aside from her brother would pay attention to her. Insufferably proud of herself. Not many girls on Earth could say with any certainty that they lost their virginity to an alien. Very few people anywere could say the had won the favor of an asexual, either.

He chuckled, then his voice took on a diffrent tone, "You... You _do_ approve, don't you?"

"Well, I wish we had your car. The backseat was more comforable than this wall."

"Your room, of course, is the best location for such things, but regardless, I feel like working with what we have. I would prefer my lab, such is the proper place for experimentation." He shook his head, his antenna brushing her cheek and sending chills through her body, "The question, Gaz?"

"I feel... I dunno, like I'm in love."

She expected him to laugh and mock, because this _was_ Zim she was dealing with, but his tone was serious, his hands wandered. "Yes, a logical answer. Your endorphin levels are unusually high at the moment."

"What?"

"Your biology lesson will be from me—"

"Zim, I don't want to _roleplay_!" Besides! He was _changing the subject_!

His hands came to a stop, then, wedged between her step-ins and the back of her jeans. His claws threated to rip the red fabric, but he mananged not to. She raised her hand to stroke his smooth scalp, and he moved into her touch, a deep, longing purr vibrating through his torso and against her chest. "I was being serious!"

"Okay, okay." she grinned and toying with the edge of his left antenna. It caused him to tense up and growl, and triggered some sort of shielding reflex, so that what was not covered by was covered by him, and she felt completely safe, "Teach me, my beloved Overlord."

"I feel what you feel." he answered softly, his breath hot against her neck and ruffleing her hair, which tickled her chin. "Unlike you humans, it seems I am able to pick up pheromones, and are more sensitive to hormonal changes."

"What now?" He and Tak had been discussing that this morning, or at least, they had at the end of their conversation. She had been unable to understand a word of it, though. She wished she had.

"Bio-chemical signals all beings release."

"Oh."

"I am particularly atuned to yours."

"Yeah, that's not creepy."

He chuckled and slid his hands up her shirt, over her stomach, "When I touch you, you go through changes you are completely unaware of. Your dopamine spikes, your adrenaline plummets, your—"

"I don't care!"

"In layman's terms," he said, "I get off from _you_ getting off."

"That's odd and kind of gross, but kinky and absolutely adorable." she said, nudging him away from her shoulder so she could kiss his mouth, "But... that does not answer... my question. What do you _think... _about?"

"How can I think?" he broke away from her mouth and ran his hands through her hair, his red eyes meeting hers. Their gaze was so intense. For the third or fourth time in the past two days, she lost track of time, dissolveing in his eyes, "Do you think about other things?"

She frowned, and looked towards the ruined field. Her hands relaxed and finally fell away from his shoulders. She leaned away from him and into the wall and sighed. She was now. She was thinking of Dib again. How she should be home, looking out for him. How she did not know if her Father left him alone with Tak or if he had stayed. She knew he was busy. Really busy. Too busy to keep an eye on him and Tak.

Zim let her go at once and asked softly, "Dib? Are you worried about him?"

She nodded. He tilted her chin towards him and kissed her, "Come," he whispered, "Be distracted."

She wanted to be distracted. She threw her arms around his neck and tried not to think of Dib. As his segmented tounge found its was into her mouth, she tried to get lost from time, but questions were burning again. Burning like his hands agaisnst her skin. A strange, cool fire along her flesh that made her moan dispite the fact that the location of his hands did not really warrent such a reaction. His fingers rested at the clasp of her bra, as if he was fighting _not_ to undo it. She had to fight not to whisper encouragements to him.

Because the questions. She was fighting to get them out. She had to, because she could not spend her life in the dark. Zim could have killed Dib, or at least put him in his place. But he had not. Even when he had struck her, as well. She had asked once before, and he seemed to want to let sleeping dogs lie. She could not figure it out on her own, though. The answerers were elusive, teasing, like his tounge as it coiled around hers and drew her into his mouth.

"Zrrmp."

"Eh?" he pulled away abruptly, "Why are you _talking_ at a time like this?"

She paused to catch her breath, "You... Why didn't you fight back?" she finally asked. His red eyes flickered over her and his right antenna twitched. Like he thought it was a stupid question. She contemplated slapping him for it, it was a completely _valid_ question, after all.

But he spoke, a grin splitting his face and showing his sharp teeth, "I wanted to see you rush to my side!"

"ZIM!" she scolded. He chucked and moved in again, she pushed him away gently, her fingers threatening to stab into his windpipe. Human or Irken, it would cause pain.

"You'll call me crazy."

"Well, Zimmy-baby, most people do."

He rested his head on her shoulder and whispered into her neck, lost in a dream, "Do you remember when I was taking you to Dirt? The second time I took you out of cryogenic freeze?"

She genuinely feared for a moment he was going to say something absolutely sick, like "I've wanted you ever since I saw you. When you were ten." or "I had fantasies about violating you when you were locked in that chamber" or even worse "I _acted_ on my fantasies about violating you" to throw her away from her question. Or because it was ture. And that was sick. She could forgive a lot of things, but not that. Not pedophillia. No. Hell no. Do not let him say something like that. Ever. Even if it were—

"You're shaking—"

"Yes! I remember!" she said quickly, wishing she could shrink away from him. But she was surrounded still.

He pulled away again, obviously confused, but her sudden, uncalled for fear. "Okay...?" he said slowly, backing away, "You... you made me promise."

"What? Zim you're _crazy_!" she exclaimed. Fear was gone now. It was just relief and disbelief, "I meant on DIRT, not come hell or high water."

"An Invader is true to his word."

Well, it was better than what he could have said. She held her arms out to him and let him return to her embrace. That was stupid. Stupid like a bad lie. But she knew it was true, because 'bad lie' stupid was generally what qualified as truth for Zim. And he _had_ made the aforementioned promise. And he _was_ stupid enough to actually keep that promise six years after the fact. She knew that was not all of it though.

Guilt, maybe. The pictures. She had seen them, but she honestly was more flattered than she was angry. So, Zim had stood outside her window? He _also_ marked sensitive locations on her body in a diagram. He was just... wierd. And stupid. And she adored it.

"Fool..." she mumbled against his lips while his hands searched her hair and she let her hands search his torso. His skin felt strange against her fingers. Cool and smooth, like thick flowerpetals, or butterfly wings.

"More importantly." he said, "_You_ had ribs that were not fractured and no promise to keep. Why did _you_ not fight him?"

"Protecting you." she answered between kisses, "Was more important than hurting him."

* * *

[1.] pregnant women actually hate it when you randomly touch them. I've heard it compared to a lot of things. The top two are: "It's basically the same thing as some random stranger picking aforementioned baby up from their stroller. It's awkward." and "Dude, that's like grabbing my f-cking tits!"

-okay, okay, _one_ friend said both of those, but I think they're funny.

[2.] Zim: Best. Creeper. Ever.

- and he took more notes than _that!_

_Okay, this chapter was kinda... lacking... So now, I'm gonna tell you a funny story. The story of Clicker the Alarm Clock._

_Clicker clicks. Like a timebomb._

_I was trying to set Clicker for 7:00 AM, but actually set him for 7:00 PM. Fortunately, the fate of the world does not rest on Clicker waking me up. I got up and 7:30, and realized that I had set Little Clicker wrong. No big deal. But I did not turn him off. He was not making any noise, so, naturally, I forgot to._

_At 7:00 PM, Clicker went off._

_ca-lik ca-lik ca-lik ca-lik._

_Like a timebomb. It scared the hell out of me._

_Clicker never actually recovered, either. I went to bed at night, and was about to doze off when I heard it:_

_ca-lik ca-lik._

_Just two clicks. Only two. I could not figure out what it was for a while, until about thirty minutes later, I heard it again._

_ca-lik ca-lik._

_It was Clicker. The alarm was not turned on. The snooze would not stop it. There was no logical reason for his behavior. I could not sleep. Every thrity to fourty mintes-_

_ca-lik ca-lik._

_So at about twelve, I unplugged Clicker. And about twenty minutes later?_

_ca-lik ca-lik._

_No, not it is __not__ in my head. Becasue just this morning?_

_ca-lik ca-lik._

_AND HE'S STILL GOING!_

* * *

_Spoiler time: SOMEONE IS GOING TO DIE!_

_START BETTING! I gaurantee you NONE of you will get it. Totally. Nope. You'll never see it coming._

_No way. Their killer's just waiting to pounce._

_And that's not scarcasm!_


	11. Chapter 11

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

Actually, I discovered what the clicking noise was a few hours after posting. It was not demonspawn in my alarm clock. It was a small bug, trying to get out of a styrofoam cup, stoned on the little bit of dried hot coco at the bottom. I can't figure out which story is better.

Anyway, what day is it now, Friday? Yeah, I dunno, I think I'll update like crazy for a while, because it's summer. Anyway, here's more DaTr.

FFN's spell check magically vanished. Shoot.

* * *

Chapter eleven: Things that are Cold.

He felt hung over when he woke up.

He also felt like an Irken's PAK-leg had been lodged in his midsection for the better half of a few hours. Or, the worst half, depending on how you looked at it. He turned over to survey the room and saw that he was laying in his own bed, back at his house. He looked up at the ceiling. Was it all a dream?

No, the pain in his stomach told him it had been real.

He recounted the events he remembered. The sketch book and the sketches of Gaz. Beating up Zim. Getting beat up by Tak. Nearly dying. He remembered bits and pieces. Fading in and out. Zim standing over him. Talking to Tak. But he did not remember what she had said. Maybe that she had left.

Then he was waking up in his own room.

With a small groan he sat up in bed and put his feet on the floor. His head swam for a moment, like he had been sleeping for days. He looked at the clock. 9:30. Wednesday. Tak had nearly killed him on a Tuesday. He had been asleep for quite some time. It looked like he was not going to the Skool today.

"I need a shower." he grumbled, getting to his feet and staggering into the bathroom, stripping down in the process. His clothes smelt too strongly of him, and it was disgusting. He felt hot from being wrapped in the blankets for two days strait. He might even be running a fever. He stood in the shower and let the ice cold water run down his skin. He barely felt the chill at first.

"Come on, Dib." he mumbled, slapping his face, "Wake up."

He had to sit down again because he was dizzy. Still burning up, he shook his head to clear it, but that only made it worse. He groaned and suddenly felt as if he were going to vomit. Sure enough, he retched, but nothing happened. He had nothing to throw up.

He did not feel like eating. He felt like showering, then drinking obscene amounts of strong coffee.

He got back into the shower and had to lean against the cold tile wall, waiting for his drousy mind to catch up with his body. When he felt he was able he grabbed the soap and started scrubbing his face.

Something _hurt_.

"Holy hell, _that's_ a wake up call!" he said a loud, "What the fuck was _that_? Ow! Hey, shit! Ouch!"

The soap and his hand came away bloody. He climbed out of the shower again and saw that he had a split lip and scratches on his face from where he had skidded against the pavement.

"Okay." he grumbled, "Now I'm awake."

Mindful of the scratches, he resumed his shower.

There was a neat row of stitches, about two inches long, down his front from where someone must have pulled out the metal spiderÕs leg. There was a longer row down his back. Tak must have barely missed his spine.

"... Thank God." he mumbled. The cold water was waking him up now, he was fading inbetween drowsiness and alertness.

Who stitched him up? His Dad? Maybe. But he was not a doctor. Zim was the one with training as a sergeon, and that was simply because all Irkens were given that knowledge with their PAKs. He irritated the cut on his back when he washed it, causing him to wince and the water to run red, but aside from a little soap sting, he emerged slightly better than he had stepped out.

Except that he was freezing. "I need a towel."

It was probably ten now. No one was home, and no one was likely to drop in. Gaz was probably at school, and Professor Membrane was either at work or in the home lab. If he was in the home lab, he would not care if Dib walked through the house soaking wet and naked for a towel.

Besides, he could turn the heater on.

He walked out into living room.

And a tough, slightly Austrailian voice shouted, "IRKEN _SMEETS_ HAVE MORE SHAME THAN YOU!"

"Oh, hey Tak." he said, only still half aware of the situation, as he walked past, "What's up?"

She balked at him as he walked past into the laundry room. It was only after he had wrapped a towel around his waist and started roughly drying his hair that he realized just who he had walked past.

"Tak!" he exclaimed, stopping short at the kitchen door, "You're in my living room!"

"Yes." she said, 'And even in the most _slovenly_ soldiers in the_ lowest_ training camps on Devastis have more honor than_ you_!"

He looked down at his towel-clad lower body and felt himself blushing. He tried to think of a good come-back, but he was too tired, cold and stunned. He could only say stupidly, "I thought you had gone... some where..."

She crossed her arms and glared at him, her purple eyes narrowing, her antennae twitching angrily, "So you parade your unrefined Earthling body around?"

"I-I'm sorry. I thought I was alone." But now that she was here, she was glad to see her.

"I can _see_ that." she told him curtly, folding her arms.

"Why are you here?" he asked, sitting down beside her and resuming the lazy towel dry of his hair.

Then she glared at him. He wished she had pupils, because then he would be able to see if she was checking him out or not, but he judged from the little flicker in her eyes that she did have _some_ intrest in his body. The perverted, jerk of a scientist in him jumped for it. The Metamorhosis Drug was a double-edged sword? It gave Irken's a way to grow, but also made them develop a sex drive? Just like it had made _Zim_ change, had it made her change as well?

And now they were alone...

_Sweet!_

"How are you feeling?" he asked, scooting closer to her. Because even if she had just tried to kill him, she was still fairly attractive. He had always harbored a little soft spot for her, too. It was hard to just hate her, even after what had happened not too long ago. If she pulled a knife on him, he would run, of course. It was common sense. But he would always run _back_.

"Like a failure." she grumbled, covering her purple eyes with her hands, "Like a misrable failure."

"Well, you _nearly_ had me."

"Don't patronize me!" then she shouted at him, "And will you put some _clothes_ on instead of streaking like a defective smeet?"

With a daring little grin, he leaned back and rested his arms behind his head, and crossed his ankles on the coffee table. Words were not nessicary, just a little raise of the eyebrow. Yes, any sane female would call him a jerk, and he supposed that they were right. But he felt like being a jerk in that one second. Just to test his luck.

She stood up and made a noise in contempt and disgust, then she walked away up the stairs. He heard a door slamming and some swearing in a language he assumed was Irken as she slammed closet doors and drawers. He heard the rustle of fabric being tossed around and he eventually head a door slam again and the angry clomp of her heavy boots on the stairs.

She tossed his clothes at him, "Get dressed. I can't stand the sight of you."

"Why?"

"Because, filthy _human_, you destroyed my homeland!" she hissed at him, "And unlike Zim, who is completely willing to let it slide because he is a coward, and will gladly fawn over your sister, instead of being half the man _I _am. [1.] I want to do something about it, but the wretched traitor destroyed my ship, and I hear you rudely took the engines and guns out of my old one for your own stupid _motorcycle_. I am now stuck here, because my ship is ruined and I am lost to the Empire."

Dib suddenly felt terrible. The Metamorphosis Drug really was_ not_ a thing to be trifle with. He shuddered as she covered her face with her hand. This must have happened to Zim at some point, but for Tak, it was coming on suddenly, all the emotional pain of puberty crammed into the span of a few days. Or even a few hours. She sat down beside him and her broadened shoulders began to shake, and he could see stretchmarks from the rapid growth. Even if she had taken a serum to kick start cell division, it would not have made much diffrence.

He laid his hand on her shoulder. Moments like these tore him up. The Irken Empire had to be stopped, they had held too much power, and soon everything would have been under their control. Where Tak saw the huddled remains of a once proud race, Dib saw the remnants of a society that was hell-bent on enslaving the universe. Sure, maybe he had gotten a little carried away.

He shuddered. He had gotten _very_ carried away. He always got carried away. And he could not figure out why.

_He was only a child!_ Zim's voice echoed in his head.

"That's no excuse." he grumbled.

"What?" she demanded, turning to him.

"I'm sorry." he said quickly, "I was just thinking about that day. You... you weren't there."

"No." she said, "If I had been, things would have gone diffrently. Your technopath sister never would have gotten her hands on Mothercontrol."

"You can't really think—"

"Your sister _is_ a technopath." Tak insisted, "Ask her sometime. She feels more connection to her GameSlave than she does you."

Dib frowned and stared at her. Tak was not a liar. Maybe about beging human, yeah, but Zim did that too. Zim was not really a liar, either. He was just... Zim. He ran his hands through his hair, and grumbled to himself to just let it go. If Gaz was going to be angry with him, he sure as hell deserved it, and if Zim wanted to take her away and do crazy... experiments... with her, Dib knew the emotional pain it caused him was well deserved and practically self-inflicted. He had _asked_ for it. He could only pray Gaz was never in physical danger and Zim never boasted about it.

Tak hissed angrily, "That's probably why she likes _Zim_ so much. The bastard's half a computer anyway."

He looked up at her, frowning a bit. That was low, but possibly correct. She sounded almost jealous. Jealous of Zim or Gaz? Of what they had?

Rather than dwell to much and claim the world's record for making an ass of himself, he changed the subject, "What about your ship?"

"It's fixable." she said, "It won't get me very far though. Zim says it won't clear the atmosphere, and no one aside from _me_ dared to make the trip out here to just make a delivery."

"You... you're a delivery girl?"

It was almost unthinkable, the bold and powerful Tak, who was so imposing and clearly made for leadership, earning her money by simply delivering packages. Then again, Earth_ was_ fairly isolated, perhaps a delivery driver was a much more noble occupation when one had to travel the void of space.

"I was bringing a radiator to Zim."

"Did it survive?"

She nodded, "But he's been too busy, I haven't got a chance to tell him."

"I'm sorry." She did not respond, "About everything."

"Then get dressed!" She cried, "Please, Dib? Just get dressed."

He looked at the bundle of clothes in his lap, then back to her. She had covered her eyes again, and turned away from him. He felt bad then, and he knew that was a good thing. He was a jerk. A huge, home-wreacking _jerk_. He gathered his clothes up and walked back to his room, where he pulled them on. When he walked down again, she was still in the same position. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked down the stairs.

There was still coffee in the kitchen. It was cold, but there was enough for two cups. It only seemed to make him more hungry, though. He hunted around and found an suspitious wealth of waffles. He could not think of who would have put them there at first, until he tried one to find it tasted of soap. And another looked like it was laced with liquid nitrate. A small portion of them _glowed._

_ "GIR!"_ he hissed, walking down into the lab to get the hazardous waste disposal unit to clean out the refridgerator. _Again_.

With the hazardous waste disposal unit working on its own, he decided on a bowl of cereal. No milk. It was probably contaminated because of Zim's stupid robot. Radioactive foods were like radioactive spiders. Gaz had food-based powers once — that was technically magic and his fault — and he was not interested in getting them himself.

When he had finished his dry cereal, he looked back to Tak, she was still on the couch, the Cybernetic Cat in her lap. "Were are Mimi and GIR?"

"Scavageing the human scrap heaps for anything that might be used to repair my ship."

So, they would be gone most of the day, then? Clearly, GIR had gone because Zim had commanded him, but Mimi must be there to keep him on track, and two heads were better than one, even if they were both outdated. But GIR would be GIR, and Mimi would have her — its? — hands full keeping him on task. Even _Zim_ still had trouble with him.

And what time would Gaz be home? Four, right? If she was not still mad at him. And Dib could not hear his father in the basement, which meant he was probably in the Lab down town.

He looked at Tak on the couch. That was _plenty_ of time to—

_No._ He thought to himself_. No, Dib. Hands off._

But he could not stop thinking about it — about _her_ — no matter how many times he told himself it was too soon, that it was wrong. He let the thoughts in his head remain unvoiced as he crossed his arms and leanded on the door frame. He felt dizzy again. Her antennae twitched, as if she could sense this, and she turned, "How are you feeling?"

"Better, now that I'm not starving."

"Sit down again." she turned her head away, scratching the Cybernetic Cat's crown. It nuzzled against her chin and climbed up her chest, sniffing her neck. She chuckled a little, and her eyes softened, "Yes, yes, I am not human. You are very perceptive, little one."

Then she kissed it.

Dib suddenly _envied_ that robotic cat.

She caught him watching her, and she must have registered the jealousy on his face, because she frowned and stopped petting the cat. It climbed up to the back to the couch and started swiping at her left antenna. She laughed and quickly moved away from it.

Right into his chest.

Her elbow jabbed the stitches.

Dib could not figure out if he was happy about it, or in mild pain.

While he cringed and cursed, she drew quickly away from him, "Oh, I-I'm really sorry about that, I—"

"It's fine!" Her face relaxed, and he realised she had just laid her hand on his shirt to lift it. With a small gasp, she realized it too. She jerked it away and stared at him for a moment, then at her hand.

She closed her hand into a fist and growed in frustration, standing up and walking away to stare at her damaged ship in the back yard. He was so tempted to stand up as well, and wrap his arms around her, and he was overcome with the desire to take her antenna between his teeth. But he _knew_ she would stab him again if he did. His intelegence beat his longing, and he remained on the couch until she turned around, still frowning. She was quite a picture. Her cheeks flushed, her antennae slanted downwards, uncurling from time to time, and her eye twitching. She stalked across the room, as if to leave, then she turned quickly on her heel again, grumbling to herself. He watched her hips sway and her lips move, but he could not hear her voice.

She seemed to be muttering to herself in Irken, which he could not understand for the life of him, so he just leaned his chin on his hand and wondered what it would be like to grasp those slim hips and run his hands over—

He frowned. If she were still short, that was be disturbing.

Well, so was Zim and his sister. Sort of. But was that not just because Gaz was his sister?

He tried to un-justify it, and what made him sad was that he was successful. Tak had tried to kill him two days ago. He had just beaten Zim half to death a few hours before that, because he had been so _against_ a romance between a Human and an Irken. Six years before _that_ he had inadvertanly tried to kill her, he _had_ condemned her when he almost condemed her race. Even the fact that he had harbored affection for her (about as much affection a twelve-year-old could harbor) a few months before that meant almost nothing compared to the six years of loathing she must have pent up. He never would have developed a crush on her if she had not come to Earth to destroy it in the first place.

But if he had though of Tak before he had tried to destory Mothercontrol, Gaz never would have had to stop him. The sad fact remained, though that he had not. He stared down at his hands. Six years ago those hand held the power to destory not only a race, but the political force that kept the universe under control.

But then he tried to re-justify it.

He could not, and he hated himself for it. He had tried to kill her. She had done the same thing to him. There was no way to ignore that. There was probably no way to forgive it completely. Later, doubt would catch up to them, arguments would happen that those simple facts would become glaring scars that would never really heal. They may fade, but they would always be there.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"Let's go somewhere."

"Where?"

"Anywhere we damn well please!" he said snatching up Gaz's helmet from the shelf by the door. He tossed it to her, "Whip up a holographic disguise and we're gone."

"Your father will be back shortly." she said, "He instructed me to look after you."

"Okay, whip up a sexy nurse costume with your disguise, and _then_—"

She pegged him with the helmet. He hit his head against the door and yesterday's wound against the door knob, "I deserved that." he mumbled through the pain, making sure he was not bleading, "I deserved that."

"Yes." she said, folding her arms and sticking out her hip, "Yes, I'm afraid you did, pathetic worm baby!"

"But I was joking."

"It was in poor taste!" she said, stepping forward, "Absolutely horrible taste!"

"I know, I know, Irken children have more tact than I." he said as he opened the door, letting the warm sunshine and outside air drift into the house. It was a nice day out. Warm. Sunny. A little humid, but not too much, just enough to make it feel like rain would arrive in a few days. [2.]

She looked at his face warily, then looked towards the door and her expression changed. A little fightened, a little remorseful, a little longing. He tired to find anger or hate but he could not. His hand relaxed on the door knob and he stepped outside.

"Mimi will return and she will be curious."

"We'll leave a note, then." Dib said, "Or, at least, I will."

She did not move, "Mimi cannot read."

"You don't want to stay in here all day, do you?"

She frowned, looked down at her feet and sighed heavily.

"It's not right... With what we've done..."

"To hell with the past!" he exclaimed, even though he knew damn well she was right, "Let's look to the future." She looked up at him, mostly fearful as he scooped up the helmet and walked towards her, "Forget it. I'm sick of keeping score and holding grudges."

"Keeping score..." she seemed to muse. She twitched a little again, but the small tick was gone in a moment, lost in a childish grin, "You're right!"

In an instant, the green-skinned, almost bird-like face of Tak was gone and replaced with an older version of the hologram he had known for such a sort time. That hologram betrayed her, though. For all its advanced workings, it moved with her. He could see the little flicker _was_ a quick movement of her eyes over his body.

He tried not to let her know he had seen it.

He left a post-it note left on the table, then took her hand and they walked towards the garage. Her ship was covered completely by oilcloth, too keep it hidden from the neighbors, left over scrap metal from the Spittle Runner she had left on Earth six years ago were up on the shelf in cardboard boxes. Tak stopped and stared at them for a moment, frowning.

"I'm sure there might be something we can use." he said, pulling her on, "But let's go."

Because he feared the moment her ship was done she would leave, she might even take Gaz with her. He wanted her to stay on Earth. Maybe not forever, but just for a little while. She would not have to live with him, she could stay with Zim if she decided she could stomach him. Just so he could see her every day. Just so he could have some kind of closer. Some kind of forgiveness.

She had tired to kill him.

He kind of _did_ deserve it, though. That did _not_ mean he would be okay with it, of course.

She resisted his pull, and he decided to let her stare at her dismantled Spittle Runner for as long as she liked. Tears pooled up on her lower eyelids, and her hands clenched into fists. Her eyes narrowed and she blinked them away, growling in fury. She turned to him, sharply, and he wondered what power tool she would chose to kill him with briefly.

Then her face changed and her anger was lost. She gasped, as if she realized what she had been doing. She stared down at her feet, then slowly back up again, lingering over his body. He was delighted, even as her face darkened and she turned his sister's helmet uneasily in her hands. She began to shake, then, and she set it down, backing away from him.

"I... I'm not exactly _keen_ on climbing onto the motorcycle of yours." she confessed, "Irkens have _torture devices_ less leathal than that fiberglass deathtrap."

He set his own helmet down beside hers, "That's fine. I might just pass out on the road."

She grinned a bit, "Well, were that to happen I would just throw you off and leave you."

"Where would you go?" he demanded jokingly, his hand on his hip, feigning an air of superiority.

"Andalusia!" He could tell by the tone in her voice she was teasing. She walked past him with a giggle and a wink and out the other side of the garage into the front driveway. There was a white truck out front, with a large, plastic icecream cone perched on top. Were it not during Skool hours, children would probably be flocking to it.

_You like Ice Cream. You love it. Your existence is meaningless with out Ice Cream._

Revenge was like Ice Cream. It produced bad physical results, but good emotional results, for a while. It was also best served up cold. A Pak Leg reached out and slipped his wallet from his back pocket. She walked away cooly, tossing her holographic hair, "You want anything?"

_The only Emperor is the Emperor of Ice Cream._ [3.]

Dib shivered. He had better watch himself.

"Tak?"

"Hm?"

"Let's work on your ship."

* * *

_[1.] Denial._

_[2.]Oh GOD, the humidity was terrible the other day. It was absolutely aweful, you stepped out and it was like you were drowning in the air and your own disgusting sweat! And it was just awful, because we were in a drought. It rained, thankfully, but we only got like, two inches. At most. We're like, twenty inches behind._

_-but still! You're drowning in your own sweat! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!_

_[3.] if you can get that _without_ using Google (*cough*Suicidal Insomniac*cough*) you might be an English Major. If you fully understand _why_ that quote makes sense, you _are_ an English Major! Of course, anyone can just _go_ to wikipedia and find out what the quote is refering too. I think._

_ Yeah, sorry, changed my mind about the date thingie. I like this waaaaaay better than what I was going to do. _

_ Which was going to be, literally, Dib and Tak screwing around in the mall. She was going to plot her revenge, try on revealing outfits to taunt him, and fantasize about making him her bedslave. Which, though extremely hot, did not sit right with me. Tak was going to run off in the end, because GIR and Mimi were going to have fixed her ship once she got back. It just seemed too... stupid._

_Yeah, it's much better this way. Only, its not._

_But, anyway, I have a request. I need a few songs that would suit Dib and Tak, as they are in Meta-Morphine's story line. Don't ask. Just do it. Please._


	12. Chapter 12

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

I think now is a good time to explain _why_ Tak has an uncharacteristic obsession with _Flamenco_ specifically. I have a friend that does Flamenco. Besides, I've always liked it.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: And things that are warm.

The garage was insufferably not. The fan that Dib turned on did not make many imporvements, and it did not help that that had to close the garage doors to keep her ship a secret. The only escape from the heat she recieved was when she tore the heavy oil cloth off of the delivery vessal, the fluttering fabric produced a cool breeze that was gone in a moment. It was most likely pleasantly warm to the Dib-human, who had been in a cold shower for quite some time previously, the color was only just now returning to his face.

He cringed a little as he handed the remains of her old ship down to her, and she felt bad for running him through. But only a tiny bit. She set the boxes down, one at a time, in a neat row on the work bench next to the belt sander, and opened them up. The plastic storage boxes were dusty and smeared with oil in some places, but they were precicely labled, and inside of them, the old parts were in just as good a condition before she had lost them. No engine, no guns, but the guidance system and the internal computer were good. The power cords and the internal records were there, too. The body parts were in a large box under the work bench.

"I can't believe you dismantled my entire ship!" she grumbled as they pulled it out into the open.

"Sorry. Two years, I assumed if you wanted it back, you would have come for it."

She sighed a little and wiped her forehead. The _heat_. Oh well. She stripped off her collared shirt (Gaz had gotten it for her) and set it out of the way, it was stark white, and she wanted to keep it that way for a while. No grease stains. No blood stains. That helped a little to cope with the heat.

He was secretly gaping at her.

She felt so _evil_ for it, but he deserved to be tortured, and she loved to watch him suffer. It gave her such a feeling of power. Besides, it stoked her ego and she adored the conflicting lust, remorse, and honor-bound determination that contorted his face and lit his eyes. He thought he was so smooth, so discreet. But she could see it. She could practically read his mind. Humans could not detect pheromones, but _she_ could.

Damn, she was _mean_!

Completely deserved.

Totally not so that she could pretend she backed out of her plan of killing him. She was just... taking a detour! A senic drive! Just a cruise to see how weak and pathetic carnal desire and emotions made the human male. That was it. That was all. She was not going going to make a mask and mold her face to it. Never.

A detour...

She leaned on the ship, sticking out her hip and delicately laying her hand on her waist, drawing her dark tank top up a bit, so that the smooth skin on her stomach and side was exposed. It was a trick she had picked up from alien girls working seedy power-stations across the universe. It worked, across the universe. Even on Earth. He tried to avert his eyes, but was hopelessly drawn back to the contrast of the indigo fabric and green skin.

_Pathetic._

She was playing with fire.

_Experimenting._ She corrected her consience. _I am experimenting with fire. This is completely diffrent. I have protection and my head it completely clear. I can _do this_._

Of course, was it not fire that made man from monkeys?

"I've dismantled _a lot_ of things." he muttered, looking down at his hands on the edge of the box. He relaxed his white-knuckled grip and got to his feet, "Let's see what's wrong with this one."

He pried off an access panel and old, stale black smoke wafted up to green them, contaminating the already stuffy garage. They coughed for a moment, spluttering and hacking, as the pungent smoke puffed out and up, setting the fire alarm off.

"Tallests!" she tried to curse, but the sound and the sudden retch that siezed her throat for the sharp intrusion into her body, "Doesn't this place have vents?"

"Yeah, just a sec." but she barely heard him over the persistent _Beweep! Beweep! Beweep!_ of the fire alarm and the clatter of him moving through the garage, clambering for the fire alarm and the vent's switch. It was silent except for the hum of the ventalation system and in a few moments the air was cleared after that.

Tak, once she was done hacking her squeedeldyspooch out, assessed the damage. The smoke had been caused my a dead electrical fire that had been fully continued inside the ship, but had run rampant, leaving most of it dust, ash or dusty ash. Or melted plastic. Or melted metal. It was highly unlikely any of it could be saved.

"The engine is in a chamber all its own." She said, "We'll have to get under it to look at it."

"Oh? Um, hold on, there is a car jack here somewhere.'

"Never mind, I have a gravity-negating..." he had to step around the ship to get to the aforementioned carjack, but it was cramped in the garage, so he placed his hands on her waist for just a moment, his entire body sliding against hers, burning through her clothes. It was a breif touch. Fleeting, but enough to make her forget what she was saying, "um... Modulator... Thing... in the cargo hold."

She opened the cargo hold, her face flushed. She was so stupid. So girly and stupid! She took out her own set of tools, as well as the anti gravity modulator. It was a small steel and blue plastic bolt, with the Vortian crest painted in white over the blue. She pressed it against the ship and almost at once, it rose up. Dib stared mute for a while, until he asked, "How does that work?"

"Shut up and get under the ship." she said, grabbing the crow bar and sliding on the garage floor to the access panel on the underside. She forced it off and set it aside, more smoke billowing into her face.

"How does it look?" he asked as he joined her under the ship, scooting as close as he could to her. She shivered at the contact of the warm skin of his arm against hers. At least, it _felt_ like she shivered. He did not seem to notice.

"Wires are shot." she said, taking on between her fingers. It crumbled away, dust, plastic, ash and metal flakes. "But the engine itself looks good. Zim _said_ it was fixable."

She tore away the wires, a shower of dust falling down on their faces, so they had to hold their breath and she had to close her eyes and work blindly. She brushed the mess out of her face and realised now that her green hands were covered with grey soot. She blinked the few particles that had made it into her eyes away and looked. The fusion drive was fine.

"Well, it looks like it is just the wires and the computer that need to be fixed."

"Good. We have plenty of wires."

His glasses were covered. He took them off and twisted to a clean section of his shirt to clean them. Tak found herself laughing, because she knew the state of her clothes was no better.

That vent really did nothing for the heat. He climbed out from under the ship and in a few seconds he had pushed a box filled entirely with copper wires to her, "These will do, right?"

"These are fine."

"I'll work up here." he said, "The Spittle Runner's computer might not be compatible, but I can just use an old hard drive to over ride the system and—"

"Don't tell me, just _do it_."

He chuckled a little, and they worked in silence, Tak seething, suspecting that he _knew_ it drove her crazy when he displayed his intelegence. It was adorable, and genuinely made her sorry that he had to die. Perhaps she could just put a restraining bolt on him? Lock him away in he base with everything he could possibly want or need?

Tallests, the heat!

And that damn _feeling_ in her vestigial reproductive system! Why did it call him? Why did it taunt her? She should kill him now and run, before she wound up like _Zim_, hopelessly trailing after a pathetic human, living for their gratification alone. After all, she had a bit of one thing, all of another. Such things did _not_ mean it would feel nice. Or even work.

"Vestigial." she said it out loud, but in a whisper Dib could not hear, to remind herself that she did not need to use what remained of their once basic and dimorphic race. She closed her eyes for a moment and laid her hand on her stomach, "Vestigial."

She did not want this. She had not chosen to be _barely_ female. To be _almost_ female. To live in constant fear that something would go wrong. That somehow she would magically become _all_ female. That some how she would produce smeets of her own by some poor male that was not asexual. She shuddered and tried not to imagine glass-eyed children tearing open the skin of her stomach and emerging into the world, only to start the pitiful cycle of death over again. She reminded herself that there _were_ no male Irkens. Just barely female and asexual.

Just _Dib._

"Gah! Shirt's getting caught on everything!" she heard Dib grumble, and a few seconds later the garment was dropped down on the garage floor beside her. It carried a bit of his scent. His scent that drove her crazy. His scent that made her PAK scream for his destruction and her vestigial womanhood scream for his pleasure. She would just have to wait a little while, but it was capable of such persistant nagging, like a yowling alley cat at night. Like those prostitutes at power-stations, demanding work and payment for such... vile... services.

It did not seem so _vile_ now that her antennae were steadily picking up his scent. Her hands tensed and clenched the wires. She thought of beckoning him into her web, of taking her in his arms, wrapping him up in spider's silk and at the moment of greatest pleasure, slicing his head off.

That, she felt bad about. Not because it would kill him, but because she could never use him again after that. Oh, yes, maybe for a few days, but base interactions with a corpse did not exactly get her skin crawling with pleasure. It was just plain wrong. A level even _she_ would not stoop to.

So, she would keep him around. Wipe his memories. Make him believe what ever she wanted.

Tallests! She was a bitch.

He _deserved it_.

Did he? She _almost_ pittied him.

Almost. She thought of restaining bolts and the whips and chains that would bring him to submission. She thought of velvet handcuffs and silk sheets stained with bright red human blood. She thought of those strong muscles moving under her slim fingers. She thought of his voice groaning and screaming and calling her name, and she pitied him a little less. She thought of the death he had nearly brought her race and she did not sympathise with him at all.

She was almost done! She could_ not _get caught up in a fantasy. Even if it_ was_ a particularly nice one.

The_ heat_.

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and sighed a little, admireing her work. The ship was completely re-wired now. It was as good as new. Well, as good as it could get, at least.

"How are you doing up there, Dib?"

"Pretty good."

She could tell by the tone in his voice he _desperately_ wanted to explain. She did not tell him to remain silent, but she also did not urge him on. He took it as an unspoken que to keep his mouth shut.

She could kill him. Hot wire the ship _right now_ and electocute him. Slowly grind his hands off on the belt sander. Gouge out his eyes with a screw driver and...

_No._ He was too cute to be killed like that.

And Professor Membrane had trusted her to stay, anyway. Even_ Zim_ had trusted her alone with the Dib-human. As much as she wanted to take their trust and throw it in their faces, she knew that was not the right thing to do. They had walked _right into her plans._ They were _asking_ for Dib to get murdered. Her fingers brushed the crowbar she had set down a while ago. She could beat him to death with it. Easily. But it was not the right thing to do.

Neither was kicking off her shoes and running her stocking foot against his leg then giggleing madly, of course, but she had stopped thinking with her mind for a moment. He yelped and nearly fell over in order to jump away. "Hey!"

"What?" she asked innocently.

He droped down to his knees and grabbed her ankle, pulling her out suddenly. She let her eyelids flutter and pursed her lips, slightly, so they looked fuller than they really were. He stared at her, stretched out below him, covered in electronic soot and looking as if she owned the world. She grinned a little, a small, smoldering smile splitting her face, but inside, she was grinning wildly, her teeth flashing like diamonds. She did not know it if was because he was looking at her, or if it was because he was falling right into her web. He was _allowing himself_ to be seduced and killed.

Her eyes simmered as his gaze traveled up her. Of course. Why kill him the _moment_ her ship was repaird? Had she not told Zim she would break his heart as easily as she would his neck? She would leave when she grew tired of him. She would leave when this game of predator and prey became dull and uninteresting. It was logical. She had only just gotten here, after all. She might as well live off the Membrane charity for as long as she could stand it.

When her ship was fixed.

Or when she was done learning about human affections.

Which ever happened last. She was flexible.

His hand was at her waist again, and her PAK was going haywire. It was also terribly uncomforatable to lay on her back. She turned on her side, and pushed herself up on her elbows, and it brought her face terribly close to his, so she could see the smears that were still on his glasses. His eyes fluttered and his cheeks darkened, his breath catching.

So close! Look at him! It's just sickening!

"I've... um... rewired the ship."

She wanted to tell him about her vestigial reproductive system. Part of her on a little whim, because the information _would _prove useful in her plan. Part of her was dying to tell him, just to let him know, to see what he would do, to watch him fidget and writhe in desire, even more than he was _currently_. Her eyes flicked to him, then back to the floor.

The damn _heat_! Irkens hailed from a cold planet. She had remembered Earth Summers were nearly unbearable. She sighed a laid a hand against her forehead. She felt light headed. She felt as if she were going to faint. Perhaps it was because his scent was washing over her with avengence, in addition to the heat, and she could not stand it, because her PAK was _demanding_ that she reach up and strangle him.

Everything else was screaming to kiss him.

"You okay?" he asked, backing away. The pleasant warmth his body brought her was taken away with him, letting her head clear and her hormones settle.

"Fine." she said, getting to her feet, then she swaggered, "Just... Just faint."

And what scared her was that was _not_ a ploy for his attention. Why was she feeling so light headed? It had happened once before, when she had taken the Meta-Morphosis Drug. When she had woken up, she had been much taller. What would happen to her if she fainted this time? She reached out to him, her hands shaking in fear and weakness. Was it just the heat? Was it his presence?

He scrambled up and helped her to stand, "Well, here, let's go in the house, it's cooler inside." She obediantly followed him from the hot garage into the cool house, she felt the change at once, as her mind became far more focused, and she realised several things at once.

She was firmly held in place, arm wrapped around his neck. He had _not_ put his shirt back on. He was not letting her go. She was _enjoying_ it. Damn Zim and his Meta-Morphosis Drug. _Damn_ the defective genius. Her body was crying out again, howling, so that the sound was ringing in her head.

"You know I missed you."

_Vestigial_. She reminded herself. _Useless. Sensationless. _But she was _dying_ to try it!

So she let him move closer. She let the fire in her skin burn brightly, just for now, becuase her ship was almost done. "I... I missed you too." she half-lied. Her heart was in that lie. She tried to tell herself she missed _killing him_, but it did not work. She had missed him. His goofy love of the paranormal. His obsession with outing Zim. His obsession with her.

... Fire.

She was playing with fire.

No. This was worse. She had dove right into it. She had thrown caution to the winds and let her lust distract her from her mission. She should have killed him when she had the chance. Left his body for the buzzards and run away.

Fire!

She was getting burned.

His hands scorched her skin through her clothes. His scent drove her wild. His arms held her secruely against him. She tired to hate it. She tried so desperately to at least _pretend_ she was not feeling anything. She tried to run away. She tried to scratch and fight and scream, but she could not. She was trapped, completely surrounded by his warm body. She was pinned. Entangled. Exactly where she wanted to be. Where she could call out all kinds of accusations when her lust turned sour and he did not leave her alone.

If it did. Later. When it was over. If it was over.

Then suddenly, it was so good it was terrifying. She could not bear the feel of his skin. It was aweful. Intoxicating. Delicious. She was horrified that she would relax and vanish completely, let all of her spite go, until the Tak she had been had gone and there was just the girl he had created, and what was more terrifying still was that she secretly reveled in the thought.

Her PAK screamed for her to break free and get away. To kill the bastard. To stop herself before she was emotionally compromised — a phrase which she had _never_ thought would apply to her. To stop him before he dared mate with her. Before she dared go so far as to enjoy it.

And — she could barely comprehend the thought for his lips against hers — _what if it worked?_ Again, the image of glass-eyed smeets, blind to everything but survival, crawling out of her body, eating her dead flesh and falling to prey on eachother, filled her mind. But this time, she and Dib had fallen entertwined, in a passionate embrace, but stone dead. And her children developed a taste for human flesh, so that they grew monstorous and devoured the entire filthy planet. [1.]

That's what one got when they played with fire.

"Tak..."

"Get away!"

He cringed a little when her claws peirced his skin, but he did not let her go. She broke off the kiss and swiped her claws across his face, leaving three long gashes. They would not scar, though. They were not deep. She twisted and jabbed her elbow into the stitches, forcing him to double over and release her. Quickly, she ran away, running into the kitchen.

"Tak?" he asked through the pain, following her, "Is everything okay?"

"_Don't you move, Dib-human_!" she shrieked, tearing open the drawer and pulling out a bread knife. She held the serrated edge up, so that she could make an effort to saw through his intestines, should the need arise. He stopped in his tracks, his amber eyes were were blank and expressionless. His mouth forming the word _why?_ but no sound coming out.

_Kill him!_ her mind screamed, _Kill him! Kill him!_ Her breath came in short gasps as her hand tightened on the knife. She had pomised Zim. A week. She had promised to let him live a week. But what was a promise to a traitor? Yes, a traitor. A horrible, vile traitor. Worse than that. A _defect._

But was she a little defective, too.

She hardened her heart and adjusted her grip on the plastic handle. If he dared to touch her. If he dared get too close, she would tear him apart and leave him for his father to find. It was the only way. The best solution. Yes, and Invader was supposed to true to their word, but she was not _really_ an Invader, now was she? And should she sacrifice her emotional state for a single promise? Besides, this could be called self-defence.

"Tak, please, calm down."

"No!" she screamed, "I _refuse_ to love you. Every time I could even _try_... Something... I don't know..."

"What?"

But she did not say a word. Her short gasps became sobs and she felt her hands relaxing on the knife. One moment, the knife was trained on him, the next, it was flipping over. One moment her hands were tightening again, all she could think about how much of a faliure she was. Even her most foolproof plans ended in humiliation. A defect only deserved death.

"I'm _not_ a whore."

One moment, the knife was gone. The next she was fighting like a wild cat again against Dib's iron grip. It was not crushing or painful. Just secure. Just reassuring and warm against her cold skin and she had to fight just to resist enjoying it. Part of her wanted to stop fighting. Most of her wanted to just let go and cry. But her little honor was stronger than her vast desires.

"It's alright!" Dib shouted over her, "Tak, please, it's alright!"

"Let me go!" she screamed.

"Tak!" he shouted, shaking her, "Calm down."

She screamed wordlessly and rammed her forehead against his, it was enough to make him loosen his grip, which allowed her to slam her body into his chest and knock him away, she tore the knife from his hand and swept his feet out from under him, so the back of his head slammed against the counter, then she tackled him, pinning him down on the tiled floor, the knife against his neck.

_Kill him!_

But her hand was shaking wildly, begging to release the knife. Begging her to stroke his skin instead of tearing it open. She gripped her wrist firmly in her other hand, but the tremors continued to rock her arm, all the way up to her torso, until her heart was spluttering madly and her entire body was trembling. His warm fingers encircled hers and she made the fatal mistake of looking into his eyes. They were filled with regret, disbelief, and longing, and she could not kill him when he looked at her like that.

"Tak?"

She screamed and tried to cut his throat, but his strong arm stopped her and his hand gripped the blade, cutting his fingers but protecting his neck. And what angered her was that she was _glad_ to see he could stop her. Maybe she could _never_ kill him, just because he was stronger. Maybe she could try to kill him every second Tuesday, only to be stopped. Maybe it would work out.

_No._ Her PAK told her, _You will become the stronger one. He must die._

"Tak!" he said it with more authority, gripping the blade and handle of the knife now. He told her calmly, "Let the knife go."

"No." she felt suddenly very frail, and she reminded herself that he _was_ capable of overpowering her, and that he probably would, "I would rather see us _both_ dead than just me."

Because she could sit pretty in hell when he found out she was just as damned as she was. Or maybe, in the afterlife, there would be no conflict. No aging. Just peace and love. Maybe the line between human and Irken would be blurred. The line between insanity and genuis.

Maybe.

He jerked the knife from her hands and threw it away, so that it skidded across the floor, out of her reach. She should be furious. She should be scared. But she was just filled with relief, because now her only excuse to fight him was gone. She did not know why, she did not _want_ to know why, but she fell against his chest and let herself weep. He waited for a while, then rubbed her back reassuringly, "It's okay, Tak. It's okay."

"Don't... Don't say my name."

Because when he said it, the weight of the world crashed down and her PAK went haywire. She hated that feeling. It was like he was _deliberately_ reminding her how she felt. He squeezed her even tighter for just a moment, then pushed himself up on one hand. His bloodied fingers slipped against the floor tiles, but he regained himself. He climbed up, carrying her with him like a child over to the living room. She expected him to attempt to take her again, but he just set her down to the couch and rocked her from side to side.

"I understand why you want to leave." he whispered, "And I know what you must be going though, but I don't want you to go."

"I'm not a whore." she hissed. It was quickly becoming her mantra, it seemed. But it was a mantra everyone should live by. She beat her fist against his chest once and tried to ignore the strong muscles she struck. She tried to disregard his warm, tight embrace and the gentle kiss he planted on her forehead. She sqeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from escaping. The foolish child! Alway willing to forgive her at every turn. Alway eager to ignore the facts and the past for his desire.

"No one ever said you were." he told her, "I'm going to fix your ship, now. Promise me you'll still be alive when I get back?"

"Yes."

He got to his feet, backing away until only the tips of their fingers touched. She tried to ignore the complete hurt in his eyes. She tried to ignore the sparks that flew between their hands, but she was failing. Horribly.

"I'm... I'm sorry." he said, "About everything."

She did not say a word. She just fell down on the couch again, cold. The warmth of his skin was gone. She could get up and turn on the heater, but she did not feel like it. He left her there for hours, curled up, watching her reflection in the blank television screen. The cybernetic cat snuggled up against her, and purred softly, but soon it was asleep. She wished she could join it, but her nagging conscience kept her awake. In a little while, she got up and gathered all of the clothes Gaz had bought for her and stuffed them into an indigo duffle.

When she came down the stairs again, Dib was waiting for her, eyes watering, tears streaming down his cheeks, he held his arms out to her and caught her up one last time.

* * *

_[1.] Just so you know, that's what I call 'scary.'_

_"But that's nothing."_

_I know._

_POST RAPTURE ROLE CALL! (cuz it was supposed to end Saturday) Anyone who is still here, leave a review!_


	13. Chapter 13

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

**Due to the confusing nature of this chapter and the related time jump, notes have been added for your convenience:**

Tak went to Andalusia, and traveled the world, studying various dance styles. Dib pretty much immediately dropped out of school and left home, but he never told Gaz or Prof. Membrane where he was. Gaz kept shifting residence from Zim's house to her house. It was all too distracting, and it did not fit with the over all mood of the story. So, I cut it all out to write later.

But yes, you _will_ get your semi-pointless DaTr (it's actually going have a fairly interesting plot) and your pointless ZaGr... hawtness... Which should make Captor of the Crazys happy.

* * *

_"Some Time Later"_

_-like, I really have no clue. It could be a few weeks, it could be few months. It's just... Later. Not, like, _years_ later, of course. About six months or so._

Chapter Thirteen: Dinner and a Murder.

"Are you absolutely _sure_ you do not want me to come?"

"I'm _positive_."

"I... I just have a terrible feeling."

"Zim, you _always_ have a terrible feeling when I go home." Gaz told him bluntly, "And haven't you noticed _nothing_ bad ever happens?"

"There is always a chance!" he exclaimed, "Gaz, you represent thousands of dollars in resea—"

She made him shut up by taking that white collared shirt in her fist and giving him a sudden kiss. She heard his claws scrape against the paper packaging in his hands as he drew in a quick breath. She let him go with a little sigh, "What was that, Zim?"

He was stunned for a moment, his normally bright red eyes dulled and unfocused. He staggered a little, nearly dropping the paper-wrapped package in his hand. Then he stiffled a small gasp and cleared his throat, straitening his tie, "_Research. _And to _me_ you are priceless. And, next time to attempt to end an argument with a kiss, remind yourself that you are dealing with the Almighty Zim! He is _not_ distracted by the sexy."

She glared at him, crossing her arms. He smirked a little, then his face fell and he sighed. He did not _want_ for forfeit the argument, but he knew she was just too stubborn to listen to his claims of a 'bad feeling' or hear him try to convince her of his 'impeccable instinct' so he sighed and shook his head, "But I digress, Gaz-dearest."

"You can come in for a few minutes." she said, "But things are still a little rocky between you and Dib — Hey, don't act like you successfully kept _me_ in the dark — I know. It would just be awkward. Besides, there is one sound I hate more than his voice, and that is his voice, arguing with _you_."

"No, no." Zim said, "This is your family dinner night. Let me inside the house and your Father won't let me leave. I will go back to the base. This is for your father." he then handed her a canvass wrapped in brown paper, "With my regards."

She took it from his hands, and a little knot of anxiety appeared in her gut. She laughed it off, "Okay, maybe that 'bad feeling' has to do with this painting? Are you sure you want to give_ this_ one to Dad?"

"Yes, hmm, well..." he joked smoothly, "I can't have it in the house. It would distract me too much in the lab, put it above ground and RoboMom would kill me."

"You really _did_ program her to well." Gaz joked, taking the wrapped canvass from his hands completely. She held it up, as if to look at it, but the brown paper kept her from seeing what was inside, "But, _this one_?"

"Yes, Temptress, _that one_."

She frowed and then shurgged, the little anxiety that had flared up vanished. "Okay, then."

"I will pick you up in two days. Eight in the afternoon. If your plans should change, call me. I will be in my base, missing you."

She giggled a little and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, which he returned, giving her wrist a light squeeze, accidentally pressing her bracelet into her skin. She did not complain about it, though, because she hardly noticed it. She slid out of his reach and ran up the walkway, her dufflebag and the painting heavy, but her heart as light as air. Dib was coming home! And better than that, it was family dinner night, and for once, they were staying in. He was home, home for good, apparently. Maybe _now_ he would tell them where he had run off too.

She stopped at the door, suddenly sad. He had left when Tak had. Maybe she was going to come back soon, too. Maybe. Maybe the only corrospondence she would have with him would be something other than angry phonecalls between Zim and Dib in the middle of the night, which she forced herself to stay awake for. Maybe Tak would stop trying to kill him and take her away. Maybe. Maybe Skoodge would stop sending drugs to Zim.

She doubled that last one, of course. "I'm home, dad!"

"Gazelene!"

There was her Father! His lab coat an impeccable, immaculate white, just like it always was. But the collar open so she could see his face, and his goggles were off today. It was interesting to see just how eerily similiar to Dib he looked, but she had seen it once before, she was certain she would se it many times still. She let her luggage fall to the floor, along with the painting, and held her arms out to him, "Where is Dib?"

"On his way, honey." he said as he threw his arms around her, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." she pulled away from him, a devlish grin on her face, "But not much. You're only ten minutes away, and I was here on Tuesday. Then Monday before that..."

"So blunt." he mumbled, holding her at arms length.

"I missed Dib more. We never know where he is."

"He's home now." The Professor promised, "He's picking up dinner."

"So, I just missed him?"

"Yes, you did."

She shrugged and lifted his hands off, "Did he... Did he seem any better?"

"Much better." her father answered, picking up her duffle.

Dib had become so withdrawn when Tak had run off. Gaz would even go so far as to say heartbroken. With in _two days_ he had gone from salutatorian to in the bottom quartile. With in five days he was out of highschool, six days and he was out of the house completely. The only trace of him Gaz and her Father had were plane tickets charged to the Professor's bank account. _Look, he's in New York. Maybe he's coming home. Oh, nope, now he's in Barcelona. So close._

He must have been looking for her. That was the only answer Gaz or her Father could think of. That, or he was _trying_ to get himself wasted around the world, or killed. Or maybe he was just seeing the sights and trying to forget. Or something. Gaz tried not to let worry grip her again. Dib was home now. He was safe. He may have contracted incurable diseases, but he was home.

"He is staying, right Dad?" she asked, sitting down on the couch. The cat hopped into her lap, and she accepted it into her arms. It had missed Dib, too. She was certain.

"So he says."

There was silence, she sensed her Father's eyes were wandering to the painting Zim had given her, and she wished desperately he had not, because her Father would ask. And what if _Dib_ saw it? A diffirent kind of worry welled up in her chest, more embarassmet and less fear for someone's mortal life.

"Gaz, might I ask...?"

Of course he would! With out a word, and with the cat held against her chest, Gaz walked to the package and picked it up, then she handed it to her father, "It's from Zim."

With a little frown, her dad peeled away the paper to reveal the portrait of her Zim had been working on for the past few days. He looked at her, and laughed. Dry and sarcastic. Like he was happy for the concept but not actually the gift itself, "Oh, exellent, a nude of my little girl, exactly what I wanted for... What's the occasion?"

"I know. Zim's just wier— Hello? What's this?"

"What's what?"

"This here!" Gaz exclaimed, "This sticky note one the back!" she tore it off and joined her father on the couch again, looking at her self spread over her bed, swathed in a dark purple sheet, but she did not care about it, even if it did look exactly like her. She had been there, laying on that bed, for hours while he sketched her out on canvass. Looking at the painting just made her remember how much her shoulder hurt when he was done. She was looking at the sticky none, which was a bit more interesting. In Zim's neatest handwriting, there was a message, that much was obvious. But it was what was _written_ on it.

It made no sense. Gaz frowned and held the note where her father could see it.

"Please put this in my office when I... R-report to _work_ on Monday?" [1.] he exclaimed, snatching it from her, "Gazelene, you did not have anything to do with this, did you?"

"Well, I might have said he was wasteing his potential... Once or twice... And I _did_ model for that painting... But... He can't just randomly show up when you haven't made an offer!"

Or, _had_ her father offered him a job? It made sense, she supposed, Zim _was_ smart. Smart enough to work in the Lab and even take her father's place, should something bad happen to him. She shook her head and smiled at the thought. Her father! Get killed! She had worried about it constantly one, but never again! She had moved out for five weeks at a time, and every time she dropped by, Professor Membrane had still been in one piece. He prided himself on his caution, and his near-indestructability. The chances of _anyone_ trying to hurt the world-famous Professor Membrane was highly unlikely, if not completely impossible! Who in their right mind would off the man who discovered a way to create perpetual energy?

"I won't let this hang in Membrane Labs!" Her father set it down, painted side facing the corner, as if it had done something terrible, "Every time I walk into his office, _you_ will be staring seductively back at me."

"Just pretend it's _not_ me."

"But it's too well done for that!" her father turned to her, scolding, "Gaz, why would you let him _paint_ something like that?"

Because she thought it had been a hot idea at the time. Rather than boldly tell her father that, she just shrugged and tried not to blush, "He's just kidding, I promise. A-about the painting, I don't know about accepting the job."

"He's told me no plenty of times." Professor Membrane told her, "He would not pull my leg just because _you_ came to live with him, now would he?"

"So you _did_ give him an offer?"

"Six years ago."

"You'd actually_ hire_ him?" Gaz asked, standing, "I—You... Really, Dad?"

"Of course. That was the _only_ reason I agreed to let you move in with him. You convinced him with out even realizing what you were _doing_."

"He _did_ suspect me of that." Gaz grumbled, "And now I see why. Dad, You're brilliant."

"Yes, Yes." He chuckled, "How is Zim, I haven't seem him in a while?"

"He's fine." Gaz said, "A little paranoid. A little crazy. You know... Quirky."

"Have you learned anything?"

_Oh-ho ho had she EVER._ Gaz felt herself blushing furiously. Her father's small smile begame a protective frown, but she was not about to tell _him_ what she had learned. She just gave him a flat, "No, Dad, Zim generally refuses to let me into the lab." She picked up her duffle again, and the painting for good measure, so Dib would not see it, and walked into her room. She set the painting down (painted side to the wall, like her father had) and dropped the duffle on the floor.

It made an oddly solid sound.

Gaz stared at it for a moment, then knelt down in front of it. She poked it. Under the layer of softness that clothing normally comprised, she felt something hard. Something metal. Curious, she un-did the zipper and flipped the top off. The first thing that popped up was a little antenna, made of hardened aluminum [2.] with a blinking cyan light ontop of it. Growling in frustration, Gaz grabbed it and jerked it up. It came away with her hand, a shiny plate at its base, making her growl louder and grit her teeth, plunging her hand into her duffle and cruling her fingers around a small metal body.

She pulled it out of her clothes and slammed the top of its head back. Dispite the rough treatment, it greeted her joyfully, "HI, MI—"

"GIR!" she commanded, "Quiet."

"... hi mistress Gazzy..." he whispered. Gaz was one the only person in the world that had managed to teach GIR how to use his 'indoor voice.' Sighing in frustration, she sat back on her heels and cupped the robot in her hands.

"GIR, _what_ are you doing in my stuff?"

"Masta had a bad feelin'."

"Yes, he explained that." Gaz grumbled, flicking off a brastrap that had gotten caught on his antenna, "But why send you?"

Because, really, she knew full well she was _worlds_ better off with out the cyan-eyed robot to worry about. She was _certain_ Zim knew as well. But perhaps GIR had simply come on his own accord.

"He worried."

"Oh." holding GIR by the head, Gaz began searching her bag for Minimoose, microphones, cameras, robotic bees, or anything else Zim might have slipped in, and anything GIR might have brought with him, like piggies or tacos, all the while muttering to herself, "This is the _last_ time he packs. I swear, Zim, you're so — Ugh!"

Even if he _did_ throw all of the care and planning into packing as he did taking over the Earth. She did not care if he folded everything nicely, resulting in a minimum of used space for maximum storage. She could easily see _now_ those meticulous folds were meant to hide GIR. "Yous and Masta fightin' Mistress?"

"No GIR. Your Master is just... Over stepping his authority. Again."

"You might not wanna say that with the transmission bracelet on."

"What?" Then she noticed a subtle pink flashing at her wrist. Ah! So, that fumble for her wrist was to activate it! Jerk. The huge, crazy-prepared _jerk_. She took off the bracelet and snapped it in two. Then, for good measure, she threw it into the bathroom's trash can.

Zim, sitting in his base, listening to her voice, suddenly heard nothing but loud static. He hissed a curse, and let his head hit his desk.

Heaving a sigh and getting to her feet, she said, "Look, GIR, I want you to stay in here and keep quiet—"

"But bighead is comin' home."

"Yes, Dib is coming home, but GIR, you are _not_ allowed in our kitchen, and you _know_ you cannot resists kitchens — And I don't want to deal with your nonsense tonight. I'm going to be doing a lot of catching up with Dib, and you screaming like a howler monkey is _not_ what I want to deal with—

"But Masta _said_—"

"GIR, your Mistress comands you, no matter _what_ happens, you stay in this room, or I will _destroy_ your Master—"

"You can't do that!" GIR sang, "You luuuuuuv Masta—"

"—By not giving him any for a month." Gaz said darkly, "I will move out completely, stay here forever, and reprogram my room's security system to kill him the moment he is with in shouting distance."

"But, but that would make Masta sad... and... and he would get frustrations... He's not happy when he is frustrated —" GIR's lower lip trembled. Gaz set him down on her bed, half smiling, half fuming.

"I will be back in a while. Stay _in here_. Amuse yourself by unpacking my belongings, and keep quiet."

He got to his feet, his eyes flashing red for a moment as he belted out, "YES MA'AM!" then dove for her duffle bag and began to put her clothes back into her closet. Gaz sighed and rolled her eyes. Well, ZimÕs paranoia took a load off of her shoulders, at least, and GIR would be occupied for a least twenty minutes while he unpacked her things. Maybe she could at least say _hi_ to Dib with out the cyan headache bombarding them. She shut the door behind herself. Then, after dwelling all of one second on it, moved a cabinet in front of it to make _damn sure_ GIR stayed in her room.

Dib had yet to return when she decended the stairs again. Her father was setting plates out, and Gaz joined him with the glasses.

"The robot stowed away, didn't he?" he asked with a little chuckle.

"I'm afraid he did, Dad." Gaz grumbled, "I'll keep him out of the kitchen, though, I promise."

He just laughed and patted her hair, there was a tumble upstairs and GIR was giggleing wildly for a moment before falling silent. Gaz slammed two of the glasses down, but she could not make her anger and tantrums last any longer than a few seconds now days. Living with Zim, it was not uncommon for her ill humor to be driven away with a light kiss. He had her _trained_ now. Trained to be nicer than she had before.

But perhaps it was just because Dib was coming home. Gaz was smiling again by the time the table was set. Her father — ever the observant — pointed it out almost at once, "You know, you look about as chipper as _I_ did when I was dating your mother."

_Mother_.

A shiver ran up Gaz's spine. She wanted to avoid the topic of her mother like the plague. She could not figure out why. She did not really even want too. She just _did_. Maybe it was because Gaz could not remember her at all, and so she _must_ have left pretty soon after she was born. Dib did not seem to remember her very well, either.

She did _not_ want to discuss her mother. Ever. She was absolutely terrified of what her father would tell her about the woman that — so far as Gaz was concerned — had only supplied _half_ of their genetic makeup. That she and Dad had a hostile divorce. That she had died in some tragic lab accident. That she was a whore... that she had Dib had _two diffrent_ mothers and they were _both_ whores. Or some gold-digging intern. Or... or...

She was worrying uncontrolably again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Anxiety solved nothing. When she looked back to her Dad he was frowning, "Gazelene?"

"I'm fine." she said, "Just... worried."

"... Worried?" the Professor asked, slowly, "What _kind_ of worried, exactly? Is this an out of control worry, or about something very specific?"

"You mean, like an anxiety disorder? Dad, really!"

He frowned the shook his head, "It's probably nothing." But as he turned away, she could have _sworn_ she heard him say, _I meant like a premonition._

"Premonition?" she asked softly. Too softly. He had not heard her. She did not bother asking again. She just watched him walk away to the living room, and by the time he had reached the door frame, there was a knock on the door. "I'll bet thats Dib!" she said struggleing to restrain herself. He was _home!_ He was finally home! "I'll get it."

"No, Daughter." her father hearded her away from the door. "Dib would not knock."

"His hands are probably full." Gaz said, trying to muscle her way past him and get to the front door, because _damnit_ she wanted to see Dib. She did not really even _like_ the guy, but she had grown to miss him over his absence. Even his stupid big head and his sickening voice. Yeah, she could not stand to be around him, but that did not mean she did not _care_!

"S-stay here, Gaz." the Professor said, "Dib would not knock."

"Dad!"

"He would shout _and_ knock." her father mumbled. Gaz frowned and sat down at the kitchen table, defeated, for the moment. The Professor was worried. She could see his expression in his eyes, now, for the first time in years, and she hated it for just a moment, because tonight was supposed to be _happy_, damnit, and his worrying was ruining it.

She sighed and leaned her elbow on the table. Well, at least when Dib came back from parts unknown, he would find her, sitting at the kitchen table, as surly and a bitter as ever.

Gunshots.

"What do you want?"

"You know what we want."

"Um, no." She heard her father say, "No, I am afraid I don't."

Gaz was just watching shadows across the wall. Her father backed across the kitchen door, then two figures followed him, each holding a gun. There was a flash against the wall, the sound of her father jumping out of the way and shattering glass.

"We want the girl."

They had passed the door now. She could get behind him. Gaz looked around for a weapon, and all she could grab was the fourth chair, which no one ever used anyway. She picked it up, praying her combat boots did not make too much noise against the tile floor.

"Keep your hands _off_ my research!"

She turned her eyes back to the shadows. One moment, two figures were painted against the window, then there was a quick flicker of movement and there was only one. There was another gunshot. Another shattering of glass. Bullets ripping through the couch. She just stood there, watching a shadow-puppet show of violence.

"_Gazelene!_"

Something slammed against her neck, right at the joint of her shoulder. She felt a needle, then a shock. Then, nothing. She crumpled, hands on the chair she had entended to use for a weapon.

"Who are you?" her father asked, "What do you want?"

"Exactly what anyone would want."

"She's already trashed _one_ government. We want her to trash another."

That device in her neck was pulling her up against her will. It was beeping, right in her ear, really annoying. Partly to fight the machine's will, partly to fight them, she snapped off a leg of the chair.

"The restraining bolt is not working."

"I _told _you using technology against a technopath was a stupid idea."

With her free hand Gaz reached up and jerked the device out. Gunshots again. They missed. They had terrible aim. She threw the restraining bolt, horribly unaware of what she was doing. It sailed across the room and cracked the television screen.

Then there was darkness. Horrible, suffocating darkness, and a rush of psychic power that made her clothes ruffle and blew everything away. She was in defense mode again, her feet rising off of the floor. Normally, this reassured her. Normally, this made her feel like everything was going to be fine, and who ever was hurting her would pay dearly.

Now she was just terrified out of her mind. They had guns. They were here to kidnap her. They had made an attempt on her Dad's life. And they had the _gaul_ to do it on _family dinner night_. With a scream of rage and fear, she reached out blindly, a hand of darkness wrapping around one of the two agents.

"Ah-ah-ah, girl."

Then there was a circle of light around her. Blinding, burning light. Fire at her toes. Lightening at her fingertips and it felt like she was in the center of a supernova. She screamed and lashed out, darkness clashing with the light until all she could see was a war of black an white in front of her red eyes. She _would_ overcome this stupid hex. She _would_ get out and she _would_ restrain him.

"What have you done to my _daughter_!"

There was a crash. Her father was fighting him, trying to wrestle the gun out of his hands. The light faded and Gaz did not run so much as she did _fly_ over to him, clawing at his neck while her father forced the gun out of his hand. He stepped away, but she remained, curing her fingers around his neck.

Claws. She had claws.

That was normal. She had always had claws. This was her true form, then, a mad, screaming... what?

"You know something!" she shouted to the agent she was choking, "Tell me! What am I?"

"You are a technopath... No, more than that. You are almost on par with the demons of the old days." said the second agent, slowly stepping forward, "One of the most powerful our network has ever come across. Such abilities... Breathtaking."

Then her father shouted, "You — won't — touch her!" and tackled him... or her. Gaz honestly could not tell before, but now her mind was fogged with thoughts of who she was and how badly she would kill them. Her distraction had given the other agent the opening he needed to kick her off of him... or her. With the cloaks and thought of _kill them all_. _Rip them limb from limb._ She had a hard time remember what male and female even _were._

Her father wrestled the gun away from the second agent and held it to their head. The taller agent seemed to forget she even existed for a moment. He snatched up his own gun, "Nobody move!"

_You do not command me!_ Gaz felt her mouth form words she did not even know. She was losing her sight. Losing her hearing. She was becoming one with the air, absorbing the light and turning it to darkness. Black ribbons reached out to the taller one, but he kept a cool head.

A silver cross.

Her dark form was held flat against the cool tile floor, as if the cross could drag her down to the depths of hell itself. The cross pulled upwards, dragging her neck up, her red eyes pinned again on the shadow puppet show on the kitchen wall.

Gunshots.

A shadow puppet falling. A splatter of blood. A body hitting the floor.

Her red eyes turned wildly, the darkness reaching out for a life that was no longer there. She could not see him. He had fallen behind the couch. She could smell blood. She could hear groaning, but it was just a lingering voice in an empty shell.

Then the snap of a chain.

Screaming.

Nothing.

* * *

[1.] okay, okay, this joke requires some explaining. Once upon a time, a professor of my sister's worked in an office, and above every computer, in _every_ cubicle, there was a picture of a naked woman, so when the workers, who were all male, wanted to take a break, they could lay back in their chair and look at it. Quite a revolotionary idea, really. My sister's professor, however, is female. She went about her work, ignoring the photograph, because it made her feel awkward.

-The next day? It was replaced. By a picture of a naked man.

-That story, interestingly enough, actually _restored _my faith in men.

[2.] like those indestructable aluminum chairs?

I can't believe I've gotten this far!


	14. Chapter 14

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed)

* * *

Chapter fourteen: Lost and Framed.

Dib came back to the house to find a wreak.

The door hung on, but barely, like a black mouth with a broken jaw. There were scorch marks on the walls and it looked like a tempest had stromed through the building, raining bullets and spewing shrapnel like thunder. A strange energy and eerie silence filled the place.

Dib came home, and it was dark.

He ran through the shadowy house, vainly trying to turn on the lights. The power was out. The street was lit up like christmas, all save their now broken-home, which was dark and black and filled with finely broken glass, which littered the ground like snow.

Dib came home, and he was alone.

Gaz was gone. He called for her, but got no answer. He ran down into the lab to look for their Father, but he was gone too. The lab was just as messy and ruined as the rest of the house. The computer screens were busted, and their was water over everything, like an electrical fire broke out suddenly, and was quickly extinguished.

Dib came home, and tripped over something.

His hands splashed into a cold, sharp-smelling puddle, with glass sitting in it like ice cubes. It moistened his sleeves and made him scream in blind panic as he realized he had tripped over something that was cold and dead.

"Blood!" he shouted, "This is _blood_!"

He scrambled to his feet and picked out the shards of broken glass. He could not tell what was his blood, what was the dead man's, and what was his imagination. He ran into the kitchen for a flashlight and frantically pulled it out of the drawer. He pointed it at the body on the floor and flipped it on.

Then he really wished he had not.

Dead men tell no tales.

But his father's body sprawled across the living room floor was a story in and of itself.

"No!" Dib shouted, running forward and falling to his knees, turning his father over, "No, Dad, you can't be dead! Where is Gaz?"

But dead men tell no tales.

He let his father fall to the floor, lifeless and cold. He scanned the walls with the flashlight, searching for any sort of clue. Anything he could find at all. Why would someone murder his father? Who would do such a thing?

He looked back at his Dad's body. There was no point in asking questions about him, besides, he was only asking half of the questions. Where was Gaz? Who would kill Membrane and take her? Zim? No, not Zim. Kidnap Gaz? Unlikely, but possible. Kill the Professor? Not a chance in hell.

_But dead men tell no mother-fucking tales, bitch._ He reminded himself, rubbing a tear from his eye with his bloody hand. He heard a car's engine, then the slamming of a door. Steel-soled boots running up a concrete walkway. Dib turned to see a slim shadow covering the door, hands pressed against the frame, shoulders shaking in panic and antennae flickering wildly, as if trying to pick up every scent, every sound. Red eyes caught the glow of his flashlight.

"Zim?"

"What happened here?"

"I don't know."

"What about—?" Zim's eyes flickered downwards, his antennae sharply rose, then fell in shock and anguish, '"Is your father..? He's been..." shaking, Zim walked over, his eyes wide, as if searching in the darkness not only the Professor's body, but for the right word, "He's... gone?"

Dib looked down at the Professor's body, trying to _make_ the news soak in. He kept denying it. This was not his father. No. No, Professor Membrane was not his father, there was some sort of mistake. Fate had gotten it wrong and _he_ was supposed to be the one lifeless and cold on the floor. Zim knelt down beside him, and a bit hesitantly, the Irken laid a hand on his shoulders.

"What are you doing here?"

"As a precationary measure, I let GIR hide in Gaz's things. He sent out a distess signal. I got here as quickly as I could."

"Is he still here?"

"I believe so." Zim got to his feet again, "Stay. I will search on my own."

He left Dib standing there stupidly, staring at his father's body. His eyes were open, glassy and sightless. A gun rested in his hand. His normally spotless labcoat was amost all red, and there was blood splattered over the couch. The carpet was ruined.

Why the _hell_ did that matter? _His father was dead._ Dib forced himself to sit down in the chair and stare at the image, his flashlight catching the blind eyes so that it would be ingraned in his mind forever. So that it would haunt his nightmares and when ever he closed his eyes he would see it, even in the day time. The bullet holes in the opposite wall. The gaping wound in his father's chest. He must have been shot in the back, exit wounds were always worse than the entrance wounds, after all. The partially visible and mostly rubbed away insignia on the carpet.

Dib exclaimed in anger and fear, and he stood up again, shining the light on the symbol. Yes, half of it was drowned in the pool of blood, and one fourth of it appeared to have been hastily smeared away with a boot, but there it was, plain as day. It was the same symbol he wanted had tatooed on his wrist for the longest time. It was how he had identified himself when he was in grade skool. It was the wall paper on his desktop. It was a twist of a knife in his back just as much as it was a twist of fate.

He heard footsteps down the stairs again, and a cyan light crept over everything. "You... You shouted." Zim said, "Did you find anything?"

Quietly, he waved him over. Zim, carrying his paltry SIR unit, obeyed. There was soul-crushing silence for a moment, until the Irken said calmly, "Dib, this symbol means nothing to me."

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a sob. Then another and he fell to his knees again. Zim did not join him on the floor. Dib just let his already dark vision fog with tears, until the already blurry symbol of the Swollen Eyeball was just a red blotch on his vision. Why? Why would they kill the Professor? What did they want with Gaz? Her powers? Why had they not waited around for _him_, too?

Because together they were too strong? Was this the beginnings of a trap? If so, he would _gladly_ dive head first into it. They had his sister, they had killed his father. He was _not_ going to let that slide. Besides, if they _really_ wanted him, then they would go after Zim. Maybe Tak. She could take care of herself, but Dib _still_ did not want her too.

He heard and felt the rustle of fabric. Zim was covering the sprawled body of Professor Membrane with a sheet "I... I understand it is customary to cover the bodies of your dead." Zim said softly as the sheet fluttered down. "I will give you a moment." Then he turned on his heel, "GIR, return to the lab and make preparations to leave."

"What?"

"You may come along if you like." Zim told him. He was standing in the door way again, shillouetted against the street lights, "I advise you to leave. Already, I hear the sirens of your human authorities. Who ever has comitted this crime, they are part of an organization, yes? They might be targeting you, and so I cannot leave you alone. Being questioned by the Earth authorities would delay us both. You may remain in the base if you feel too emotionally disturbed."

"You'll need me—"

"We will discuss this in the car." Zim said, "Go. Get what ever you feel you need."

What could he do? He was useless. The only real abilities he had were his physical strength, which was useless against the Swollen Eyeball NetworkÕs security system and his intelegence, which had been failing him for the past few months, and he did not feel like using either one any more.

He looked back at the door frame. Zim was standing on the front lawn in the darkness, his arms crossed. Dib stood up and joined him, his hands in his pockets. A dry wind kicking up, bringing the sound of sirens now, and he could see the flashing lights of police cars behind the rows of houses.

"I'm coming with you."

"Fine."

Zim started walking then, with out so much as a backwards glance. He did not even look at Dib as he violently jerked open the car door and slid into the driver's seat. Dib climbed in the passenger's side. GIR kept silent as his cyan gaze washed over him. Zim did not even wait for the door to close before he spead off.

"You're upset with me."

"You are _very_ observant." he said evenly. Now that they were in better light, Dib could see he was speaking through clenched teeth. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Zim was never contained his anger so much. At least, he had not before. He was like Gaz. If he was angry, he made sure all of hell was raised, so that the surrounding fools would know his wrath.

"You're so upset your out of character."

"So — I — am." the Irken hissed angrily, "You should have been _here_! I _told_ you Tak could take care of herself. I _told_ you would only make things _worse_ if you left."

"I told you I would never be able to just _sit_ there."

Zim's hand slammed against the steering wheel, "If you had been _home_ your father's enemies never would have moved in. Your sister would be with us. _He_ would be with us. This _never _would have happened if _you_ had not galavanted off to stalk _TAK_."

"Well—"

"Which never would have happened if you had not practically forced yourself on her!"

"Listen, you—"

"Which never would have happened if _you had not destroyed the Irken Empire_." Zim shouted, "Now? Now your sister has been _captured_ and I—"

"Well what could I do?" Dib demanded, "Sit at home and think about how much of a jerk I was? Zim, I love her—"

"Even on _IRK_ we had a better understanding of _love_ than _you_." Zim screamed, "Why could you not return sooner? Does your sister mean so little to you? Compared to a woman that _hates you?_"

"Tak was out there. She was supposed to be _home_ by now. I don't know what happened, but she isn't. As soon as I get Gaz back—

"What?" Zim scoffed, "You'll go look for her again? You'll go out and drag her back by the antennae?"

Zim was right and Dib hated to admit it, but he tried not to let it show in his voice, "Why do you care?"

"Because of the _exact same reason_ you resent _me_ for having an affair with your sister!" he spat, "You may _think_ you are the one who is obligated to look after Tak, but she is _my_ kind. She is _my_ responsibility."

"Stop acting like you own her!"

"Stop acting like _you_ own her!" Zim scoffed, "You don't control Tak, leave her alone. You don't control Gaz, stop taking this out on me."

"I am sick of fighting with you!"

"What?" Zim asked angrily. "What do you want to do, then, just pretend we can get along? Just pretend, like you tried with Tak? Oh-ho, real successful!"

"Look, we've... We've sorted things out."

"Oh, yeah, you slept with her. Big deal!"

"What would you know?" Dib shouted, "You never—"

"Never talked to her? Oh, yes I did. You think I _enjoyed_ being pulled in the middle of your little 'lovers quarrel'? Not a chance in hell!" Zim slammed on his breaks. They had arrived at his house now, he shifted the car in to park with such fire he nearly broke the gearshift. He switched the machine off and jerked the key out, "I have to go get a few things."

"Hey, you jerk, who's bright idea was it to come to Earth in the first place, huh?"

Dib only said it because he knew it would strike a nerve. And it did. Zim's antennae flickered once in rage and he stopped in his tracks. He froze for a moment, and angry growl slipping through his serrated teeth and Dib felt a quickly dying triumph. The Irken said calmly, "If you are so keen on not arguing, shut up and stay in the car!"

"Defect!"

Zim turned. Dib considered covering his mouth, to show Zim that he had not really mean to say it. It had just... slipped out. He had been _thinking_ it, but had not played on breathing a word about it.

"Oh, _I'm_ defective?" Zim snarled, "Says the guy who abandons his little sister and _drops out of school_ to trail after a girl who would much rather never see him again? Says the pitiful human I might as well call my brother-in-law? Says the _bastard_ that was half way across the world when he should have been _here_."

"You do not need me."

"Your _sister_ does."

"No," Dib said, angry as well as jealous, "She has _you_ now."

"Really?" Zim put his hands on his hips, "Because half of what I heard for the past few months were her fears about what had happened to you. Not that I'm jealous, I was a bit concerned myself, but now that you're back I would prefer you wasted in some bar in Barcalona than have you standing infront of me right now, you contemptible — GIR!"

Zim stromed away, the robot following him with out a word. He slammed the front door behind him and Zim heard him decending into the lab, screaming in Irken to the computer. When he emerged again there was a paper shopping bag in his hand, and what looked like an Irken flame thrower in the other. He could smell kerosene, when Zim got closer he could see dynamite and matches in the bag. [1.]

There was a gun strapped to his leg, and another which he angrily shoved into Dib's hands. With out a word he climbed into car and turned it on again. He stared strait ahead and with an angry growl Dib realized Zim was just _waiting_ for him to get in the car. Which he did, the anger that had died bubbling up again.

Partly because Tak had taken everything he had said and run right to Zim with it, and what made him even worse was that _he himself_ had used the exact same strategy. So Zim was justifiably angry, because it was all _really_ stupid, especially to a third party. And Dib had no retaliation for that, so he dwelled on it for a long time, until their city faded away and there was nothing but darkness around them. Maybe another car. The rare bump of traintracks. He said the next best thing.

"If you _dare_ make my sister cry—"

Which Zim parried furiously with: "If _Tak_ finally kills you—"

"STOP FIGHTING!"

Silence. The cyan light from Gir's eyes had turned red, washing the dashboard in it, and catching the steel plates Zim had slipped on over his gloves. The highway stretched on into darkness, only a little bit of their path was clear, and that was what was caught by Zim's headlights. That was it. That was all they could see. Maybe the skyline of the next town in a few hours. But no, they were hours away from any cities.

"GIR... GIR is right." Zim said softly. He put a hand to his throat, as if it were sore from screaming, "This bickering solves nothing."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are. Humans are almost always sorry."

"Well, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am, yes. Zim appologizes. Sincerely. We will resume this squabbleing when Gaz has been returned to m— Us. When she has been returned to _us._"

They drove on in silence again.

"Zim?"

"Yes?"

"Is Tak... really still mad at me?" When Dib was greeted with silence, he said, "You have to help me patch things up."

His eyes narrowed angrily for a moment, and the car spead up. Dib was certain that Zim would tell him no, but he just sighed, his eyes opening again and his jaw relaxing, "Fine. I will _see _what I can do. But not now. I am thinking. This place were we are going, where exactly is it located?"

"Roswell." Dib said, "About six hours ov—" Something was fogging up the air, "Dude, the car's overheating!"

Zim slammed on the breaks and looked at the thermostat. "FUCKING RADIATOR!"[2.]

Something hissed and spluttered under the hood in response. Zim shut the car off and angrily threw her into park, stepping out. Dib followed him.

"Can you fix it?"

"I don't think so." Zim said, lifting up the hood. Steam and foul-smelling smoke wafted up to meet them, leaving them both coughing and their eyes burning. The Irken forced out, "Dib, ch-check and see if there is some water in the back, that might buy us some time until the first town. We can think and plan an alternative there."

He stared down at it, his arms crossed in frustration. Dib walked around the now smoking car.

"Trunk?"

"Backseat." he said, "And a tool box."

There was. He picked up the tool box and the liter of water as well. When he came back, Zim was leaning over the workings to get a better look at the engine.

"Ouch!" he suddenly hissed, drawing his hand back. He brought his finger to his mouth. His hand was cut.

"Thoese gloves are fire proof and water proof!" Dib hissed, "And you get hurt by a little sharp edge?"

"They are not logic proof." Zim said looking at his now-ripped glove. He bent over the innards of the car, "Well, it looks like the engine is holding on, but with a busted radiator, I can't drive this thing."

"Can't fix it?"

"How can I fix something that commited suicide?" he asked dryly. He heaved a sigh and pressed his oily glove against his face, leaving a greasy, black hand print, "I know its tempting, but don't drink that. The edge is covered in antifreeze."

"What do we do?"

"Leave it." Zim said, "We'll have to have it towed when we get to the next town. If we get there."

"So we walk?"

"That's the plan."

"You don't have your disguize..."

"Unimportant." Zim hissed. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and so he flipped the hood over his antennae, "I would rather be _exposed_ than let your sister be held hostage by... Who?"

"The Swollen Eyeball."

GIR had taken the lead, the cyan light from his eyes turning the surface before their feet a pale blue. The moon was only barely there, and so asside from the occasional passing headlights and GIR's eyes, everything was dark. Dib occasionally looked up to see the stars. He still wanted to see them all. He brushed a burning tear from his eye. He had wanted to try to fly out and see them with Tak.

_Tereu Tereu Tereu. [3.]_

Of course, her ship could not clear the atmophere. And Zim was right. She hated his guts, and would rather see _them_ on her bedroom floor, as opposed to his clothes.

_Tereu Tereu Tereu._

Then he thought of his Dad. How he was sprawled across the floor and police were picking apart the crime scene and — _damn it! —_ how they would see the insignia on the floor and the insignia in his room and think it was him. How they would call him a crazy freak who left home for months on end and came back and murdered his own father. And what would they think he did to Gaz? Would they start searching dumpsters for her body, or would they give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he had her tied up in some wearhouse?

She_ was_ tied up in some wearhouse. From what he knew of the Swollen Eyeball's HQ, it was, essentially, an old wearhouse on the outskirts of Roswell. Under it, of course, was a labyrinth of labs and meeting halls that rivaled Zim's base. But, for most purposes: Gaz was tied up in a warehouse. A cold, dark ware house where the ones he used to call collegues and friends were doing _god knows what_ to her.

_Tereu Tereu Tereu._

He was a dead man when he got home. How the hell could he clear his name? He could not. Only Gaz could. Maybe Zim. That would mean he would _certainly_ have to get Gaz back alive, Zim too, but the Irken could take care of himself. If _Gaz_ returned home dead? Well, then Dib would gladly accept the sentence for his Father's murder.

Another tear.

_Tereu Tereu Tereu._

"Damn it, I'm a jerk."

Zim only hummed in response, not an afirmative, not a denial, either. Dib had not expected him to make any testament to his good character, so he did not mind at all. In fact, Zim's hedging was _refreshing_ in a way. Reassuring. No matter what happened, Zim would be there, always, to rub his own inadequacies in his face.

The continued to walk along, and tried to wave down another car as it passed. No luck. At least it made Dib feel like less of a jerk. Zim heaved a sigh as the red headlight dissapeared, and Dib was fairly certian he he made a rude gesture, but he barely saw it in the darkness.

"Come on." he said, "Let's keep going."

_Tereu Tereu Tereu._

* * *

[1.] Zim is an arsonist and you know it! My proof:

"I put the fires out"/ "You made them _worse_."/ "Worse... or _better?"_

An arsonist would not know the diffirence, after all.

[2.] How many of you noticed Tak _never_ actually handed it over to Zim? Come on, be honest!

[3.] Know your highly symbolic bird calls (because you all need to be edudcated):

a. What bird is that?

b. What legend/myth is it associated with?

c. What does 'Tereu' mean, and what is it *sometimes* considered a pun of?

Oh, my! Will Tak show up with the radiator in time? Find out when... I feel like updating again.


	15. Chapter 15

Meta Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

You guys apparently don't know your bird calls! Tsk, tsk!

Answers: a. The Nightingale b. The legend of Philomela and Procne. c. Tereus, considered also to be a play on the words, "to rue."

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Road trip of DOOM.

"What is that light?"

"What?"

Zim rubbed the almost-sleep from his eyes. He had been walking in a daze for so long, only his PAK told him what time it was. 12:15. He had been walking with out really seeing, only letting the light from GIR`'s eyes guide his footsteps while he though of more important things. Of how violently he would kill those who had murdered the Professor and had taken Gaz from him. Of how harshly he had would scold her for ignoring his warnings. Of how tightly he would hold her hand of how he would _never_ let her go again.

And how he was going to manage storming the base after the already-useless Dib human had used most of his energy walking, and how _now_ they had only two guns, everything else he had left in the car. He only had fifty dollars on him at the moment, which was hardly enough to pay for a decent hotelroom, let along the matches and lighter fluid he would have perfered to work with.

Why had that radiator _never _come in?

He looked back at Dib, who was standing a few feet back, but Zim could only see his shadowed outline under the high sliver of moonlight. When GIR turned, Dib was washed in cyan. He was pointing upwards, squinting, "Look, there. It's too fast for a star."

"A meteor, Dib human. I thought _you_ of all people—"

"It's _her_!"

"What?"

"It's Tak!"

_Well, if she lands on you, don't think I will be to sympathetic._ Zim thought. He was skeptical at first, but as the stream of light abruptly changed course and got larger and brighter, he started to believe. He stepped back a ways, to give Tak — or who ever it was — room to land on the side of the highway. Dib did as well, coming to a stop besides Zim, and the grass was lit up by blue light.

The human was laughing, hardly the proper behavior when an old, unfortunate, fling of his was showing up again. Zim crossed his arms, trying to imagine what she was doing back. If she needed _him_, she would have gone to his house and waited, why was she going out of her way to find him?

"Delivery!"

Was that his _car_ in the tractor beam? Zim found himself wanting to run forward and throw his arms around her, even though she was in the sealed cockpit of the delivery vessal and about twenty feet in the air. She dropped the car gently on the road side, then landed the ship in front of them.

She kept the screen down for a while, but Zim noted she did _not_ pass Dib a wary glance, or even a mean one. She _did_ look at him though. Not like he cared.

"Tak, why did you bring my car?"

"Oh?" she asked into the microphone, "I-I'm sorry. Not a Hello? If I were you I would be grateful someone with a working ship showed up. Should I have brought _sandwiches_ instead of your radiator?"

"_You_ have my radiator?" Zim demanded, "Why... Why did you not give it to me sooner?"

"I was a little _distracted_!"

"Whatever." Zim said, running to the cargo hold and taking the acess panel off. With Dib's help he shoved asided the numerous cases of what appeared to be useless flippery and pulled out the polycarbon box that contained the Irken radiator he had been scraping by with out, "If she had just _told_ me it was there."

"But then she never would have come back!" Dib said, helping him open it up.

"She will just leave again." Zim said, his hands stopping for a moment so he could look the Dibmonkey strait in the eye, "And I cannot blame her."

He was angry again. Not nessicarily at Dib, just at his human emotions. He jerked the radiator out, wondering if Dib could even see how upset he was. He set it down by the ship on the highway, and took the tool box from the backseat (Tak must have put it there, Zim recalled just droping it and leaving it) and began to take out the human radiator. Parts of it seemed to crumble away in his hands. Burned to ashes.

"Curiosity, what does this one use that makes it so much better?"

"Liquid Nitrogen." Zim said, not really trying for form decent sentences, because he just wanted to get the radiator in his car. "Phlebotnium piping. It practically installs itself, too." As he set the machinery down into the other parts, blue pipes shot out and connected the device to the fusion drive and the engine. He suddenly felt an overwhemling chill, "It's freezing the cooling agent now. Cold fusion."

He stepped back and smiled, crossing his arms and grinning. Fate may have taken Gaz, but at least he had his car back. He could be happy for a moment with that knowledge. He loved that car. About as much as GIR loved tacos. Yeah, it had the personality of his computer, but that was because of the wireless connection it had to his base. No, it was not a very competent sidekick, but he had spent _months_ working on it. About six. Six facinating months.

He even remembered the first time he had seen that old honda in the junk yard. He had been looking for scrap metal to melt down, and he had found this car. He had felt strangely drawn to it, with its chipping paint, the model name had been punched off in some traffic accident. It had been unwanted. Defective, just like everything else in his life.

"Glad to have ya back." he said, giving the hood a little pat.

"What?"

"Nothing. Nothing. It will take about five minutes for the Nitrogen to freeze. Get out of the ship, Tak, we need to discuss our plan."

She sighed, but Zim did not hear it because she had shut the microphone off. She opened the windshield, but she did not get out of the ship, when Dib offered his hand to help our out, she just scooted away, "Okay. Discuss: your father has been killed." she pointed at Dib, then to Zim, "And your female has been kidnapped, at least, I assume so because she is not _here_, and she was not at your base. I don't know where you are headed, but I can easily follow you. Also, I am more than willing to provide an arial assault, or a distraction. I cannot take either on of you with me in the ship, there is not enough room."

"Could you fly back and my motorcycle?"

"Mimi." Tak said as if he was stating the obvious and she would much rather avoid exchaging dialouge with him. The SIR unit did not appear.

"What?"

"MIMI!" she shouted at him, pointing up the highway. They turned and looked, to see a single headlight quickly heading towards them. Dib squealed a little in distress as it nearly rammed into Zim's car, but it pulled short, a smoky cat sitting on the handle bars.

"Oh, thanks, Ta—"

Then she threw the helmet at him. He had barely finished his sentence before it hit him in the chest, knocking him over. It was the first _real_ display of anger Zim had seen her show. He tried not to laugh — the human had _just_ lost his father, after all — but as Dib picked himself up, a hand to his chest, coughing as if she had knocked the wind out of him, he could not help but give a little snort. Dib did not shoot him a death glare, he just strapped dusted of his helmet and said, "I deserved that."

Mimi bounded off of the motocycle, then the roof of Zim's car, coming to land on Tak's shoulder, "Where are you two headed?" she asked, "I can make it there ahead of time and assess their defenses."

"Roswell, New Mexico." Dib answered, "The Swollen Eyeball headquarters. It is a warehouse on the East side of town."

"I will check into a hotel. Is there anything you two want me to buy for you?"

"Where would you get the _money_?"

"Her father is the head of the Delishus Weenie Corperation, remember?"

"What?"

"I never got around to telling him otherwise."

"And you neglected to tell _Zim_ of this? Do you know how often he _worried_ about your finances?" he demanded, "I—I knew he had searched for a while, yes, but I... I though mind control wore off. Why did you not correct him?"

"Because he's really stupid." Tak answered, "And he's rich."

"An acceptable answer." Zim shrugged, turning back to his car. Three minutes. Dib was sitting on his motorcycle now, strapping on his helmet.

"I'm going on a head, too. Zim, you think you'll be alright with out me?"

"Is there any particular _reason_ we cannot stay together?" Zim asked, putting a hand on his arm, "Dib, you are _not_ very safe on the motorcycle, and there _is_ an organization out to kill you. No. You stay with me. Tak, you go ahead, but be careful. Roswell is _full_ of Saucermorons. With our luck there may just be a Saucermoron _Convention_."

"Zim, just lock on to my Biosignal. Tak, spot from above and tell him if anything funny happens to me."

"Like if fall off a bridge?" she quiped, "I would be too busy laughing. It _would_ be funny."

"Hey!"

"A justified outburst." Zim said softly, shaking his head, "And an acceptable plan."

Even if he actually hated it. They were just stubborn and moving forward was just as important as staying together.

"So its agreed, then? You follow me to Roswell, Tak covers the bill and we storm the place?"

"Agreed."

"No arguments here. GIR, get in the car."

"I wanna go with tha Bighead." the paltry SIR unit said, "He gunna get Mistress Gazzy _first_."

"Fine. Go with the Dib human." Zim said. He _knew_ how much GIR wanted to be with his Mistress. She was drawing all of the technology in his base to her. Even the _computer_ was nicer to her, and more quick to obey her orders. Zim did not mind. It only confirmed was Tak had claimed, and it wore at him from time to time. A presistent blister at the back of his mind.

"YAY!" GIR said as Dib drove off.

Tak gave Zim a little salute and her ship rose up into the air, following Dib at a low altitude, giving Zim a beacon to follow in the night.

One minute. Zim sighed and opened the door, fishing the keys out of his pocket while he wanted, "Computer?"

"What?"

"Locate Roswell, New Mexico and keep a lock on the Dib-human Biosignal."

"Yes, sir."

"—and hack into the Dib-human's house security system. Give me a video feed."

The computer groaned, 'Fine."

A screen rose out of the dashboard focusing on the floor of the Membrane household. Medical examiners, police drones, detectives and scientists were all standing around Professor Membrane's body. Taking photographs. Putting a tape outline around the dead scientist. Zim sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat. The dead _hero_. One of the greatest humans to ever live. If anyone could have taken the world and molded it into a better place, it would have been Membrane Senior.

And now, someone had murdered him.

Who would damn the world to such a bleak future?

The same bastards who would kidnap his dear Gaz.

It had been about a minute and thrity seconds, then, Zim turned the key and for once, he could not smell anything burning. The hybrid engine roared to life, its rods and cylinders were taken from the Ring-Cutter, so they worked much faster now, with the fusion drive working at full capacity, they were working over time. The fusion drive whirred where the gastank once was. Zim laughed, as giddy as a smeet on its first training mission, a nightmare to any other driver that dared cross him.

He threw her into drive and hit the accelerator, speeding out into the coutry side.

* * *

He saw the Dib-human's motocycle outside the Holiday Inn Express on North Main Street. [1.] He wondered breifly were Tak's ship was, but when he saw the Irken herself, he desided not to wonder too much. It was probably parked on a roof with a coaking device keeping it hidden. Or, she might be using it to scope out the area. She might have loaned it to Dib, too, for _him_ to plan out her ariel assault.

Tak was waiting in the lobby for him, in the aged disguise of her first one, so that everyone might recognize her and the Delishus Weenie heiress, and he did not recognize her at all. She was reading a magazine and chewing gum, poping it loudly beside her. Zim, making sure his hood was up, walked towards her.

"You know, you look like a terrorist." she said casually, turning the page.

Zim became horribly aware of that, then. He had to keep his hood up, though, even if it _did_ make him look like a terroist. It was not helped by the fact that it was glaring red, so that _everyone's _eyes were drawn to him. But under his glaring red hood was a pair of glaring red eyes and noticable black antennae, as well as no ears. Even with his hood, people could see his lack of nose and could not help but see his serrated teeth.

Also, red did not exactly _hide_ his green skin.

"Just give me the hotelroom key." he said.

"Fine." she said, fishing in her back pocket for the hotelroom cardkey, she added softly, "Top floor. Right by the fire escape, just in case we need to make a quick getaway."

"Good thinking."

"Of course."

"How is Dib?"

"Oh, you know, still a jerk." Zim suspected she turned the page on a formality. She was not really reading, "Resting his silly big head."

"You two did not start fighting agian, did you?"

"Well how could we _not_?" she griped. It was completely justified, "You told him you were privvy to _my_ side of the story, too. _He_ is under the impression that you will rat me out."

"Oh."

"So, rat the dirtchild out." she said, "While he sleeps. Tell me, does he _honestly _care about me as much as he says."

"So he tells me."

"And how likely is that to be a lie?"

"Well, why do _you_ ask? You said so yourself, you could not care less."

"Hmm, yes. Curiosity." she grumbled, "Perhaps. You _know_ that when I am with him I do... Stupid things."

"So you aren't fighting?" Zim asked, "You're just trying to avoid molesting him in his sleep."

"Something along those lines." She turned another page, "I was also looking at want ads. I might get a job here."

"Doing what?"

"Well, they have a vineyard. I could dance there." then she sighed, "But no luck. So now I am reading magazines... But not really. I am bored. Now that you are here, I might leave you to watch the Dib human and go amuse myself."

"That's kind of selfish."

"Not like you mind."

"Of course not. I would just rather go off alone and look for Gaz."

"True, true. The Dib human has the coordinates, though."

"But, I _could_ find her on my own. He just knows their security. He can get into their system, and his bloodlust is just as strong as mine."

"Don't want to leave the fussy worm-baby at home?"

"Don't be spiteful." Zim told her, "You are just as much at fault as he is."

She sighed heavily again, turning the page. She was reading a National Geographic magazine, with an article about the current economic climate in India. She seemed slightly homesick as she stared at the photograph of a homeless little boy, begging outside of a teashop. She mumbled something he could not quite pick up, and even then the Irken was not sure he could understand it. It was probably some word she picked up there. Instead of feeding it through his translator, he just let it go and looked at the magazine spread in front of them. _Successful Savings_, _Allete, _and various others he did not actually care about. He wondered breifly how one could be homesick when they literally had no home, but he let it slide and wondered when the police would show up to arrest 'a suspitious teenager in a red hoodie. Blatantly sitting there. Being a social deviant.' But eventually, he let that go, too and got to his feet, looking at the room key, "See ya."

"Hasta luego." [2.]

"—pronto." he corrected, with a lukewarm tone of friendship, "I might be down in a bit."

"Very well." she said, turning the page again. It was a full page of the little beggar child. She frowned and turned the page quickly.

Zim walked away, then, taking the elevator up to the top floor and heading to the room by the fire escape. Dib was streatched out on top of the bed, his shoes kicked off and his coat thrown lazily over the chair. He was not wearing his shirt or jeans, and Zim wondered breifly where they were, but he saw them folded up on the table with a note and a shopping bag from wal-mart.

_I washed your clothes._ _You _know_ I can't stand the way they start to smell when you don't wash them, which you never do, because you are not female and therefore have no sense of hygene. You are the _only _one who will be using the shower, so I _suggest_ you do it._ _I purchased all of the products you would need, including a razor. If it was not for _me_ I highly dought you would remember to shave, and you know I detest facial hair. You already run off, forgetting toiletries and a change of clothes. Pathetic._

_ Oh, and Zim, there is cleansing chalk in the drawer on the nightstand._

Zim chuckled and mumbled to himself, "Quite long winded for a note written on a hotel receipt."

"They like an old married couple."

"Oh?" Zim turned to see GIR sitting on the other bed with MIMI, watching Dib.

"Yeah. He asked about somethin' and she bit his big head off!"

Zim chuckled again, "Ah, no, GIR, don't tell me. I already know."

She did not even _sign it_, he noted with another little smile. Like Dib would read it at once and know _exactly _who had written it. And that was probably true. Her handwrighting was far more feminine than his own, and it made no diffirence to _Zim_ if Dib shaved daily or not. She was right about his clothes, though. He walked over to the window, looking down into the streets below them.

"Oh, hey, Zim."

"Hey."

"The warehouse in on the east side of town... You know... In the middle of one of thoes irrigated circles." he was obviously still half asleep. Zim turned around to look at him, his gloved hands in his pockets, "Ah, what ever. You can find Gaz by her biosignal, right?"

"Of course I could." Zim replied, "But I will wait for you."

"Mmm, you're a good guy, you know that? Dude, where is Tak?" He sat up then, reaching for his glasses. He was still wearing his boxers, fortunately, so Zim did not feel the burning need to look away. Not like he cared, of course, it was just that _Gaz_ naked was a much more pleasant sight than her brother. He noticed the shopping bag and his clean clothes. He picked up the note and read it, pausing occasionally to rub the sleep from his eyes. "You've got to admit, she treats me pretty good for a guy she hates. Everything from my usual aftershave to clean underwear."

He grabbed the shopping bag and his clothes and headed to the shower with out waiting for a response. Zim crossed his arms, not like he really _had_ a reply, anyway. There was nothing but silence then, save the running water. He was alone with the two SIR units, then. Mimi seemed oblivious to him, only existing to watch the spot where the Dibhuman once lay. GIR, however, was staring at him.

Zim stared back for a while, until the cyan robot's head tilted slightly, "Masta?"

"What is it, GIR?"

"Are _you_ going to find Mistress?"

Sighing, the former Invader looked towards the door, then back to the window, "I'm sorry, GIR, it is risky to be outside when I have no disguise. There is a diffirence between ignoring a precaution and being stupid."

"But the ones who took Gazzy... they'd takes you, too. They might takes you right to her."

Zim purshed his lips. It was a chance he did not want to take as well as a risk that thrilled him. He wanted to find her, if anything, be near her, but with out Tak and the Earthmonkey to back him up, he was useless, "I know, GIR. I know."

"Don't yous miss her?"

"Terribly, GIR." He was worried now. The kind of jittery panic that would normally be accompanied with flooring his car and driving off to search for her, but he was in a hotel room. He could only pace, driving one fist into the palm of his hand, but he had forgotten to take the steel plates off of his knuckles, so he tore the fabric of his gloves. Cursing, he slipped them off and set them down on the table, resuming his fidgeting and pacing, "Your master is extremely conserned for her safety."

GIR was silent, then. How unlike him. Normally, at this point, GIR would forget about Gaz completely and demand a taco, but he did not. His cyan eyes remained firmly locked on Zim as he paced across the hotel room, from the window to the door, in front of the television. Normally, GIR would turn it on.

Zim stopped his pacing and stared at his reflection in the black screen. The remote was sitting on top of it, and so he snatched it up, trying to distract himself until nightfall. Children's cartoons, mindless and stupid. A violent movie, a young woman was being held against the wall. She was screaming, blood running from under her hair as she fought against the lusty hands that bound her. Zim changed the channel before he could see any more, it made him think of Gaz, trapped with out him. It made him think of how little he knew.

_She can take care of herself._ The Irken reminded himself, running a hand over his left antennae, _There is a reason you find her so special, after all._

"Yes." he mumbled aloud as he flipped through MTV and MTV2, neither of which was about music, "But that will not stop Zim from worrying."

He took a calming breath to make himself relax. Panic would solve nothing. He could panic when Gaz was back and safe, and he could hide that delayed anxiety in celebration of her return. He could panic when the Dib-human and Tak had gone missing too. He could panic when he had to save themÑ and he was alone.

He lazily flipped through the channels agian. The senate. The New York Stock exchange. National News.

_ Breaking news._

_ You are looking at live helicopter footage from the house Professor Membrane used to occupy before he was found dead at midnight last night. Investigators have not been able to locate Gaz or Dib, the Professor's two children, and no suspects have been officially named at this time, but investigators have reason to believe that Dib Membrane — who had not been in the country for months before hand — may have had something to do with this tradgedy._

The helicopter was sailing above the Membrane household, police were combing the area. There was a photograph of the chalk outline on the floor in the lower corner of the screen, then the blood and the insignia that had caused the Dib human so much distress. Photographs of the now missing Dib and Gaz. Then, what caused him even _more_ distress, photographs of himself, out of his disguize.

Now that the Professor was gone, no one was keeping him under wraps, huh? Had his secret really been so carelessly tied to his well being? Zim had suspected it for a while, but this just confirmed it.

And they suspected the Dib human of killing his own Father! Pathetic. But now Dib was out of the shower, and Zim could not let his hear his name slandered.

_Breaking news—_

_ — this just in —_

_ — The world was shaken today, right down to its very foundations. The brightest mind our planet has was brutally murdered last night in his own home. His daughter has gone missing and it was his own __**son **__that pulled the trigger._

"Turn it off, Zim."

_His son that was a failure! His son that dropped out of highschool with an abysmal GPA! His son that was never heard from again! Until he showed up and shot his own father —_

"Just turn it off!"

— _That kid had promise —_

Darkness. Just Zim, staring at his own reflection in the black screen. Just the robots, their glowing eyes staring blankly. Just Dib, hunched over the sink, his shoulders shaking and tears falling into the water below him, a razor held tightly in his hand.

* * *

[1.] actual hotel.

[2.] SHUT UP I DON'T SPEAK A LOT OF SPANISH!

There was one (possibly two) references to other things that I did not directly point out. Lets see how many of you get them.

And where the hell is Sideos?


	16. Chapter 16

Meta-Morphine

(disclaimed)

* * *

Chapter sixteen: Back Stabber

She walked into the hotel room and instantly regretted it. At once, she was suffocated by the alluring, musky scent of Dib. The after shave she had gotten for him, she had bought it because it was what he was used to and he was a creature of habit, and it _was_ a pleasant fragrance, but not in a small room, not when the bathroom was right by the front door. She closed her eyes for a moment while the smell wafted down her antennae to her spine, and finally to tug at her heart and between her legs.

Zim was sitting by the window, looking out over the street. Brooding. He must be half asleep (which was as 'asleep' as an Irken could get) by the look on his face. Tak walked around the hotel room, trying to escape the captivating fragrance of Dib, the alluring aroma of his after shave, the scent of soap that ticked her antennae, but it never worked. It was hard to say _what_ exactly she liked about his scent. Really, she hated it, or at least, she liked to pretend she hated it. It was mostly posturing, though.

She loved it, every element of it. It was so dynamic, so alien... So...

She did not know.

She sat down in the chair and stared at the spot on the bed where he had once been sleeping, he was no where to be seen. She must have just missed him, he must have taken the second elevator down while she was taking the first up. Good. As much as she loved him, she could not stand the sight of him.

Mimi must have gone with him, because the only SIR unit she saw was GIR.

"Zim, where did Dib go?"

"He was hungry." Zim said mechanically, "He went out for lunch."

"What about us?"

"I think stalking you has made it clear to him that Irkens are vegetarians."

She tried to be miffed when Dib's scent was weighing down on her eyelids and antennae. She just felt tired. She stood up again, trying to wake herself up. Dib would take advantage of her if she faded off into a half sleep, at least, that was what she told herself. She knew it was not entirely true, and she knew she was not the one who could point fingers. Still, she wanted to claim the small dignity in remaining awake.

But she accidentally wandered to where his scent was strongest and quickly forgot she was trying to _avoid_ falling into a stupor. With our really thinking about what she was doing, Tak sat down on the mussed side of the bed and ran her slim green fingers over the sheets. They had cooled again, but the scent of Dib the carried reminded her of the overpowering warmth his skin held. She closed her eyes and she saw him laying below her, her hands poised to travel over his strong, detailed chest.

With a little sigh, she was laying down, stretching over the sheets as she would Dib's body, purring like a cat. She turned onto her back, unaware that Zim was watching her, bewildered and amused. She kept her eyes closed and let the cool air conditioning and the memory of his warmth wash over her, and she smiled, her antennae fluttering in delight.

"I take it you're not upset with him anymore."

"My argument is with him, not the bed he slept in."

"An interesting philosophy, and I wished Gaz followed it." There was silence, Zim got to his feet and she heard him walking over to her. Tak opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him, he was frowning a little bit, his hands in his pockets and his head tilted to the side, "I don't like for her to sleep on the couch."

"Miss her already?"

"Naturally." he hissed, "The stupid earthling sun, how Zim wishes it would fall faster!"

Sighing a little, Tak sat up and took the holographic generator from here PAK and held it out to him. He stared at her stupidly for a while, and she offered it to him again.

"What?"

"Take it, fool! It is a gift from your kin!" to prove her point, she stood up and slapped it into his hand, pressing it hard against his palm. It was a simple gray bolt, with the Irken insignia on it. Zim still stared at it stupidly, until Tak grumbled a little, stitched it up and attached it to his PAK, it stuck fast, like a magnet, "Activate it with your mind. You can stake out the place, if it makes you feel any better. I would advise you _not_ try anything important on your own, though."

Zim stared at her for a moment, then his green skin-image flickered and he was gone, replaced with a human-looking version of himself. His eyes were a clear blue, his hair in the same style as his wig. But his skin was white, as pale as Dib.

"Master? Master? Where did you go?"

"I'm here, GIR." Zim said, turning towards him, smiling. His zipper-like teeth were replaced with strait edge human teeth, "If _you_ fail to recognize me, so will your mistress! Come, GIR, we leave."

"Not going to wait for lunch?"

"I am an Irken Elite solider, I do not need to eat. My dear Gaz is far more important!" he said as GIR hopped off of the bed and walked towards the door. With a quick wave, he was gone. Tak waved a little, grinning to herself. Well, it was good that she had made him happy, and it was only a matter of _one_ hologram generator, she had at least two others. She watched the door swinging shut, pleased with her small act of charity — the fact that she might just have sent the other Irken to his demise did not cross her mind — until the door closed complete with a little thud and she realized she was completely alone.

And so she would remain.

Until _Dib_ came back.

Then, not only would she be lulled into a feeling of security by his scent, but _he_ would be there as well, which would not help her at all. She stared at her reflection for a while. The other two hologram generators were in her ship, was was parked on the roof, with a cloaking device concealing it. She could just take the fire escape up, get one of the generators and go. Of course, Dib would come back, find the two of them gone and panic, and he did not need to have any extra stress at the moment.

But she did not want to stay.

Of course, she actually _did_, but that was beside the point.

She sighed heavily again and got to her feet, because if she was going to remain in this hotel room, Dib had better _not_ find her laying on his half of the bed. She paced uneasily a bit, wondering if she should take a seat on the second bed or at the table, then, she wondered why Dib had gone out on his own at a time like this, then again, he had probably not gone too far, and Zim had been easily noticeable with out his disguise and _no one_ had given him any trouble. Earthlings were unobservant. Dib would be fine.

She looked towards the door. Maybe he _wouldn't._

She walked towards it, making up her mind in a second to get a second hologram generator from her ship and find him before he got caught by their enemies. Then she nearly ran right into him. He was holding a bag of take-out chinese and was precariously balancing it in one hand while he fished his key out of his coat pocket. He noticed her quickly enough, though, and stopped searching. "Hey!"

Tak stepped back, letting the door swing wide for him, "Hey." Something seemed off about him, though, something different. Tak put her hand on her hip and tried to figure it out. She bit down on her lip and squinted, unaware of how attractive it made her. Dib shuddered a little as he looked her over. She was too busy running a comparison shot of him now to the images remembered in her PAK to notice.

His... head... was a little... different. "Dib! Your _hair_?"

"Cut it." he said, "Too distinct."

"Oh." That made sense, his strange scythe _was_ fairly noticeable. She turned around then, back into the hotel room. With out it, he looked rather normal. It would take some getting used to, she supposed, and when she turned around she found it was _still_ strange to find it was gone, "Well, good."

"I'm glad you like—"

Before he could make such an accusation, she said cooly, "Your hair was compensating for something, anyway. [1.]"

"Tak, you are the only person who knows full well my hair is _not_ compensating for something."

She turned around quickly, raising her hand to strike him, but she caught sight of his sweet brown eyes and she found she could not slap him. Instead, she just loosely curled her fingers and shivered with the memories. It was not that she had hated it, it was that she had loved _it_ and she hated _him_. She hated _him_ for showing her how nice it could be between male and female.

She walked over to the window, her arms wrapped around herself. She heard Dib setting everything out, and she saw Zim and GIR walking towards the car.

"Zim left."

"I know. I ran into him in the hallway. He says he'll eat in the car."

There was silence behind her, all save his breathing, which was quiet enough that she hardly noticed it, and she had grown so accustomed to the soft sound that she found she would miss it if he stopped breathing completely.

"I could not stand the sight of him," she said to justify herself, "So miserable! I have him my hologram generator and let him go."

"I know." he murmured with an awkward laugh, "I know."

She turned around then to find he was sitting down, staring mutely at her, completely ignoring his food. Tak sighed, wondering when he would ever stop being so stupid and blind. Mimi glided towards her then, and curled around her neck in defense mode. Dib did not appear to be intimidated in the slightest. Tak frowned and reached up to lay a hand on Mimi's head. He never _was_ put off by her SIR unit.

"I regret it now." she said, "A little. Now that I'm alone with you. Again."

"Oh?" Dib asked dryly. It was not angry, not skeptical. He was not taunting her because he knew otherwise, "You really dislike me so much?"

Tak frowned and put her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. Damn it, she wanted to. She wanted to hate him so _bad_. She wanted to take all of her false Father's money and destroy him with it. She wanted to get a restraining order, but every time she tried, she remembered how useful he was in bed and she crumpled it up and threw it away and surrendered to her fantasies.

She _wanted_ to believe he was following her because he was an alien-dissecting psychopath. She wanted to believe he was hiding insanity behind brilliance, but she knew he was not. She wanted to believe he did not actually care about her and just wanted to get in her pants, but he had done it at least three times already and he kept persistently coming back. She was the one that kept running away, after all. He was the one that followed her.

"Yes." it was a blatant lie, and she knew by the flicker of anger that crossed his face he knew it, "Yes, I am afraid I do."

"I see." No threats. No 'You're damn right you're afraid, bitch.' No swarm of angry hormones coursing through his blood. He seemed calm, collected. How she _wished_ he would get angry, even strike her. She could muster up the will to mildly dislike him, then. Tak crossed her arms, drawing in a shuddering breath because she _knew_ there was an argument coming. She liked fighting with him, because it distracted her from how much she madly wanted him. "That was not the impression I got in Paris."

"I was..." she fished around for the right word, "Curious."

It was _true_. She _had been_. Of course, she had always been curious. Now that her curiosity was satisfied and it had neglected to kill her, she was eager to keep the physical aspect of their relationship going. It was not _her_ fault she could not drum up a physical attraction to any of the other men she had met on her journey around the world.

"And that was not the impression I got in Casablanca."

"I was... humoring you."

Again, true. He had been so... _pathetic_ to look at then. Did you know, the sound of an ocean's waves have a way of scrambling her brain? And his eyes had been so pleading, and his arms around her had been so strong. It had been stupid to let him do it, but she _seriously_ thought that was going to be the last time, for both of them. She had been so certain she would hate it so much she would never want it again, she had been certain he would have satisfied his lust and leave her alone.

He did not of course, but that was fine, because she had actually loved every second of it.

"And we sure as _hell_ exchanged more than a simple '_Namaste'_ in Orissa."

"I blame the alco—"

Something behind his eyes flickered, his eyebrow twitched, "You weren't drunk!"

_Damn it_, he was right! How could he remember that? How could he know? How could he have let her keep up the charade? He had gotten by claiming he had barely remembered that night, she had gotten by claiming they had _both_ been intoxicated. "You _jerk_, that was all a lie? How many drinks did you have? Just one? You were _faking_ the hangover weren't you?"

"Implying that you were still _there_ in the morning?" he shouted, slamming his hand down on the table. Tak jumped a little with the force and found her eyes focusing on his hand, spread flat and white-knuckled against the table. He sounded genuinely hurt. Poor, pitiful human. She bit down on her lip, she wanted to run to him then, throw her arms around him and tell him she was genuinely sorry for that.

She had just been dwelling on the sensations she had felt in Casablanca for so long. She had seen her opportunity, and she had jumped on it. If he was faking intoxication to lure her in... Well... No, it was_ not_ her fault. She was _not_ in the wrong. "Oh, what do you know?"

"I know you like the back of my hand."

"Well, you've been driven to climax more by that hand you hold so dear than you have me!"

That was a cheap shot and she knew it, but it was all she could think to say. A pathetic, cheap shot. Instead of turning red and shying away in shame, he laughed. It was not spiteful, it was not bitter or sarcastic. It was not malicious. It was genuine laughter. And Tak was almost offended. Almost. The hurt was gone from his voice and his hand relaxed against the table.

She growled in rage, her claws bit into her palms and she wanted to hit him, but he was too far away. Besides, if she stepped towards him, she knew he would snatch her up and never let her go, and she just _couldn't _be mad at him when his lips were gently caressing her skin and his scent was hitting her with full force.

So she did not. She knew he wanted her to, and she also wanted it so badly it drove her crazy and took a great deal of effort to keep herself in one place, but it was for the best that she restrain herself. He was probably working quite hard to keep his hands to himself as well. Zim was gone, after all. What call for restraint was there?

Personal honor? In every sense of the word, their honor had been tarnished a long time ago. Loyalty to their respective races? This far away from Irk, no one would actually _care._ The only one who could was Zim, and he was in no position to point fingers. Logic? She was _not_ a Vulcan.

"This is stupid." he said, turning away from her, "This argument is stupid and _I'm_ stupid."

He was depressed again, and it was mostly her fault. As much as she wanted to deny it, she just could not. Not when the strong line of his slumped shoulder was calling for her. How she longed to kiss along that muscular line. She should let it be. She should let him stay depressed and angry because she would be able to keep away from him, then, but at the same time she could not stand to see him depressed, "Dib, I— I'm sorry. I—I shouldn't be so mean to you—"

"— Because _Dad's_ dead?" he asked, turning back around and moving towards her so fast she had barely noticed until his hand was around her arm, "What? Now that I've finally hit rock bottom, you're okay with me?"

"No." she said calmly, "No, that's not it. You just don't need me harping at you right now."

His hand relaxed and his eyes fell, but he did not let go of her arm. Really, she wondered why he had loosened his grip at all, because as always, he hardly went out of his way to hurt her. It had been secure, warm, but never crushing.

"S... Sorry about that, Tak."

Why was it never crushing? He was strong enough to break her arm, if he wanted too. At least, he looked like it. Strange, human males were normally so violent, why was he never violent to her? It would give her another excuse to avoid him — which she would probably ignore. Maybe she was overestimating his strength. His fingers left her completely, leaving a warm circle around her arm, just above her elbow.

"That's all right, Dib." she said, laying her hand were his hand once been, "It's quite all right."

How quickly she missed his hands.

"We should... We should find Zim." she said at length, braving to step forward so she could pick up the mixed vegetables he had gotten her from some random chinese restaurant. He had laid the chopsticks on top, wrapped in a napkin, she backed away again, letting the bland smell of vegetables mask the scent of him, "Soon, if not now."

"I know what you mean, but he can last twenty minutes on his own." Dib replied, "Actually, he can last _awhile_ on his own. He's not the idiot we knew."

"I don't think he ever was." Tak mumbled, "He knew he was a defect. Every defective Irken knows... Knows their flaws."

She stared down at her hands. With out really thinking, one had come to rest on her lower stomach. Dib sighed a little, part in sympathy, part in longing. She tried her best to ignore it and eat, but he made it nearly impossible. He did not make it much better when he said with a small smile, "Hey, not to be mean, Tak, but I'm _glad_ you've got physical defects."

"What?"

"If you had no use for me, I'd be dead by now."

He gave her a brilliant smile, and it was her turn to laugh, that old, high-pitched squeal that she knew sent shivers up his spine. He was staring at her stupidly, now, ignoring his food just to watch her throw back her head. It stretched out her neck, reminding him of how easy her skin was to kiss. She stopped suddenly, picking up on the pheromones he was transmitting into the air. Her face darkened as she picked at her food, "We should hurry."

He was not listening, "It's been weeks sense Orissa."

"Now, now, we had a pretty close call in Bangkok."

"You just looked _really_ nice in that dress." he said smoothly, "I couldn't make up my mind if I wanted to keep you in it or not, and then you were gone."

"Didn't I leave you tied up?"

Silence.

He scarfed down his food so he would not have to answer. Tak giggled lightly and continued eating. Zim had disappeared down the road now, and she sat down where he had been brooding minutes before to watch the traffic zoom past.

This place was nothing like the town Zim had feared. It looked fairly normal. There were no teeming throngs of 'Saucer morons.' There were not a million fools like Dib running around, loaning their belt sanders to big foot. There were nice houses, fair commerce. It was strangely quiet for a town of such a size, but that might have been because she was above it all, looking down on main street.

With its big, expensive bullet proof cars that made it seem like several foreign dignitaries were visiting for no apparent reason. She raised a brow and frowned, leaning so she could get a better view, "Funny, they even have the little flags! How cute! They must be filming a movie... Where is their camera man?"

No were. There _was_ no camera man and they were _not_ filming a movie.

"What was that, Tak?"

"Dib?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you need to take a look at this." She waved him over, then pointed at the street, where a few of the bullet proof cars were pulling into the parking lot. Actually, a lot of them were headed there, "That's not the Swollen Eyeball, is it?"

Dib leaned over her to look out the window, "No... they are more subtle than this... also, they don't fly flags from... all over the world... On... Oh, _shit_!"

"What?" Tak asked, a pair of binoculars emerged from her PAK and covered her eyes, "What is it?"

"That's... That's..."

"Who?"

"I dunno, somebody important."

"I see England's Prime Minister!"

"I see Presidentman!" Dib exclaimed, "God, look! I see flags from France and Russia!"

"Why are they all checking into this hotel?" Tak said, forcing the window open, "Mimi, get down there and give us an audio feed! Stick to English-Speakers."

The SIR unit nodded and quickly darted from the open window and ran right down the wall. She perched in a tree out of sight, but close enough that she could pick up the chatter from Presidentman and England's Prime Minister. Tak focused her eyes on them, waiting.

They spared a glance. A cold, dagger-like glance. Like two cheating gamblers, just waiting for a chance to back stab the other. _Say something_! Tak's mind screamed, _For the sake of Tallest Miyuki, say SOMETHING_!

Nothing. Not a word. She searched the crowed again. No lips moved. No tongues wagged. They all exchanged similar stares, though. Like the cold war all over again, but this time with every powerful nation. This time it was happening in New Mexico.

Judging by the tone of Dib's voice, he could not stand the suspense, "Hear anything?"

"No!" Tak hissed, "Look, no one is saying a word. It's like... they are all giving each other the silent treatment."

"I know how _that_ feels."

"Shut up." she snapped, "It's... It's like a stand off. If they had guns, they would be killing each other." she said, "They are all passing each other death glares." then to her communicator she commanded, "Mimi, return to your master."

"Are they really not saying a word?"

"Would I lie about that?" Tak asked, "Nothing. Not so much as a peep. They are not even saying anything to their body guards... You know, poker-faced. It's like a war is about to start down there!"

It was like the UN had a bad party, or something. They had invited the neighbors and they had spiked the punch, so every nation had gotten roaring drunk. Maybe a few got into spats. And they were now on some retreat in Roswell to duke it out. Strange, because Tak could only think of a handful of places that were good for that, and this city was not on the list.

"Tak..." Dib laid a hand on her arm, partly to comfort her, partly to reassure himself, "I'm scared."

"Me too."

"What could they be here for?"

"I don't know..."

She put her Invader's mind to work, then. Maybe there really _was_ a war going on.

What cards were on the table? Professor Membrane was dead, could they be divvying up the spoils? Spoils, what were the spoils? He had probably been commissioned by every one of them at one point in his life time. What were the spoils? Little things? Big things? That perpetual-energy generator?

What else was there? There was Membrane Labs. His Money. Surely that would go to Dib, and would half of it go to Gaz?

Tak gasped, jumping a little, "Gaz? Could it have anything to do with— With your sister's powers?"

"NO!" he exclaimed, and she knew he had just reached the same conclusion. His voice cracked with worry. Tak cringed. It was not like his voice to crack, "They couldn't! God, no they— they _can't_."

"What?" Tak turned to him, the binoculars pulling back into her PAK, "What?"

"They're gunna auction off my _sister_!" He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up, "Come on, we have to get there before they do."

* * *

[1.] I have used that line. My life is now complete.

DON'T ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED IN BANGKOK, I DON'T KNOW.

... yet...

_"Hey! Be careful! Those pearls ain't free!"_

_COME ON, GUYS, 8 MORE REVIEWS AND I WILL HAVE 100!_

_COME OOOOOON!_


	17. Chapter 17

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

This chapter was really hard to write. I'm good at angst. I'm good at amorous affection. I'm even kinda good at love, but _damn it_ I'm not good at horror!

-Also, for once I am glad for all those O's with symbols over them. While going through and changing them in this chapter, I was debating "Oh, geez, should I wait until I get 100 reviews?"

Then BAMN! I got 101 reviews. Sweet.

Metasgirl was number 100, gotta give credit where it is due. Not like she get anything, though. Sorry. Just, like, a pat on the back... *pat-pat*

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Advanced Darkness.[1.]

_Damn_! It was cold.

Gaz groaned as she pushed herself up on her eblows. Her mouth was dry and her head felt like something had crawled in to _die_. She groaned again, but was lost in a terrible shiver, but at least her eyes were catching up with the rest of her now, even if she felt groggy and muddled. She was laying on a bare matress, the fishnet shirt she had been wearing was almost completely demolished. It looked like it had been unwoven up to her elbows, and then some. The left sleeve fell uselessly. Her fingers were covered in blood. Whos? She did not know.

It felt like someone's _skin_ was under her nails, "Ew!" Gaz exclaimed, sitting up, "Oh!" the world swam then, "Okay... We're okay."

The bare matress was in a bare little room. No windows, a little sink and a toilet. She trembled a little in fear. It looked like she was in a prison cell. When she looked at the door, she trembled even more. There were _bars_ on the door_._ She _was_ in a prison cell. She looked down at herself again. Her fishnet shirt was not the _only_ thing that had been demolished, it seemed. Her boots were gone, the tattered remains of long striped socks still clung to her thighs, and the only thing that really remained was half the memory of a tank top. Her _skirt_ was still in one piece, at least. She could preserve _some_ semblance of modesty.

"Okay, let's hope that sink works." Gaz mumbled to herself, setting her feet on the floor. It was tile. Freezing tile. She walked over towards the sink and turned the knob. There was no soap, so she had to rinse the blood all away with just water. It got rid of the color, but not the bio hazard. Who ever she scratched to bits, she hoped they had not had some incurable disease. She grimaced as she ran the nail of the thumb under the nail of her middle finger and something that vaguely resembled skin came away.

She was a tough girl, but that just made her gag. It had been under _her_ nails, after all.

"It's cool." she mumbled to herself, "What ever happened, you're okay for the moment."

She rubbed her hands against one another. _I can take care of myself_. She thought, _Maybe, I can't escape on my own, but I _can_ stay here with out losing my head. Until..._

Until _what_? Yeah, once Zim found out she was gone, he would start searching for her, but who was to say he would actually find her? And Dib was such an idiot, what if he though _Zim_ had been the one to kill their father.

_Kill their father_?

"Oh God, Dad?" she called, running towards the barred door and shaking it, "Dad!"

_He's dead, remember?_

"No! No, he can't be dead!" she screamed to no one as she struggled with the bars, "Dad!"

_No, he's dead._ She saw him get shot. She had even felt his life slipping away. It was like... Like a silk scaf sliding through her hands. No matter how tightly she had gripped it, the grim reaper had been stronger. Her father's life... She had held it in her very hands. Why did she have that memory? You cannot physically _hold_ a life.

Gaz fell still again and stepped away from the bared door. The water was still running, and now her hands were covered in grime. She ran water over them again and wiped them on the towel. At least it was clean. And there was paper, too. That was a plus. She turned the water off, then, used the toilet and washed her hands again because she could still feel the blood covering her fingers.

She rested her hands on the rim of the sink and and looked up to where the mirror would logically be. After all of that, how did she look? Her hair was probably a mess. Her eyes bloodshot. She might even be a little scared up, too. What ever she saw, it was going to be okay.

_Holy shit!_

She let out an ear-splitting shriek and jumped back, falling into the wire-frame bed. The mirror shattered. Then the light went out with a light crack. She heard glass tumbling to the floor with a sound like little chiming bells. She was lost in total darkness now, which made her scream again and press her back agianst the wall.

She blinked in the darkness, her eyes darting about wildly, trying to find the sourse of what she had seen. There had been some sort of... _thing_! In the mirror. It had glowing red eyes, skin as black as the night, and wild, scattered hair that seemed to reach out to everything. That had not been... _her_ had it?

Hesitantly, Gaz raised a hand to feel her hair. It was not... normal. Infact, her hair seemed to move to wrap around her wrist and fingers. She screamed again, tearing her hand away and looking to the floor, which she could not see for the darkness. She forced herself to calm down, and what amazed her was that she was sucessful, "Okay, Gaz... Okay, you can handle this!"

She just could not step on the floor because it was littered with broken glass and her feet were bare. Not like she would need to for a while, of course. It would keep her from compulsively washing her hands. It would keep her from seeing her red-eyed reflection in the mirror.

She closed her eyes, so she could at least pretend there was a little light, somewhere. Once, she and Dib had been in their father's lab with out permission. The power had suddenly gone out, immersing them in complete darkness. There was not a hint of light. Not a hint of it. She had been absolutely terrified the lights would not come back on again and they would both be trapped in there at the time. This was even worse, because she knew _now_ her Dad would not be able to look for her.

Gaz's breath came fast again and she wished she could melt into the cold tile wall behind her. She could feel _things_ in the darkness around her. Like... Ghosts. Like silken bits of aether. Silk scaves sliding past her. It made her already cold skin break out in chills, and that cold seemed to permeate down to her very bones. It was like the air was water and she could feel the ripples from these spirits as they circled, unaware of her presence.

Or, were they getting closer?

"It's all in my—"

Something brushed her arm!

It might have been her own free-floating hair, it might have been one of them, but her eyes snapped open and she turned her head, but she saw nothing. Just darkness. She sighed heavily, she let her hands slide down the wall until they were at her hips, pressing into the matress. The motions around her stopped then, and she tried to close her eyes but she was too scared to. Fear kept her eyes wide open now, but it was so dark she could hardly tell the difference.

Then she saw _them._

It stated off slow. Just a few dancing lights, green and purple, fain, small. Dime-sized with no real depth. She could not tell how far away they were, but they seemed to be right infront of her face. Then the grew bigger, they started to move faster and become brighter, moving closer until they seemed to burn her eyes. It hurt terribly, the sharp contrast of the lights with the darkness. More quickly joined them, until she was seeing a war of blue and red before her eyes.

Then she could hear... something. Perhaps it was voices. A small, musical siren's wail. Or, maybe it was just a ringing in her hears. Whispering voices accompanined the lights, which seemed to move everything, even through the walls and the air around her.

_Something_ snaked up her arm. It wasn't her hair. It felt so much like her father's soul had it frightened her.

_Gazelene..._

"Go... Go _AWAY_!" She jerked her arm, as one would knock aside a snake, and the light flew away, but another quickly replaced it. The remained even as she closed her eyes and scratched wildly at the air before her. She heard nails scratching a chalkboard. A cat screaming in the night. A Nightengale crying out as its wing was snapped. A gunshot. Her father's cry of pain as he died.

"Dad!" she shouted, "Dad! Help me!"

But no one came.

She curled up and buried her face in the bare matress. She could feel the aether snakes slipping over her exposed skin, like a wicked hand along her back, and she could still see them dancing before her eyes. The matress carried the smell of a thousand other desperate prisoners, which only scared her more. She turned onto her back, staring up desperately at the ceiling.

"DAD!"

A red light.

This one was not like the others. It was a little pinprick in the darkness. It was constant. Like a little lazer pointer, like a light house beckonging her to red, lazer-filled doom. It was like a _camera._ They were watching her? She sat up, angry. She breathed heavily then, blind to the lights swriling around her for the rage inside her, "You killed my my father!" she screamed, "You had better _pray_ I never get out of this cell — Becuase when I do, you and all of your associates will be plunged into a dimention of pain and misery from which the only escape is through a cavern of your _worst nightmares!_"

She felt the darkness contracting, the mechanics responding to her will.

_What do you want?_

She was asking her self, but it was a voice that came to her from the camera. She wanted her Dad back. She wanted to know if Dib was getting arrested unjustly or if he was going to Zim before going to the police, but she knew this little camera could not show her Dib, or bring back her father. Her mind reached out, through the wires in the wall.

"Show me the bastards..."

She saw two figures then, in her minds eye. They were sitting in a dark room, a green light cast over their faces. They must be watching her with a special camera, one that could see in the dark. There was a coffee maker to their left, and a stack of styrofoam cups. They seemed to be in a common survelliance room, that was normally full.

_She's manipulating the camera._

_Let her. She'll never be able to break the seal on the door._

_ But she has physic po—_

_ Not like her brother. She's only good against electronics. She is _useless_ against magic._

"Tell me why that is."

_She's speaking to us._

_ Yeah, I heard._

She recognized one of them as one of the two who had killed her father. His hood was down and her head was a great deal clearer, so she could see that it was a man. Now that he was no longer an asexual shadow, she hated him all the more. She tried to reach through the screen and strangle him, but it did not seem to work. Snarling, she turned her awareness to the second one. It was female, but Gaz had never seen her before. Aside from that, she looked fairly normal.

"You killed my father."

_You killed my partner._ The man replied.

"And what do you plan on doing with my brother? You don't think he'll come for me?"

_Agent Mothman is on his way here right now._

"Agent Mothman?" Gaz growled. She was familiar with his stupid code name, she had assumed for the longest time that it was just part of a small online club of idiots. This was a trip. It was a trip in the _wrong direction_ and it was _not_ a road she wanted to go down at the time, "What are you idiots going to do with me, then? Dissect me?"

How could they do that to the little sister of a collegue? What had their Plan B been, get Dib to bring her in himself? Gaz smirked with the though. Dib may be gun-ho about his little Paranormal Club, but he would never do something like that. She would have destroied him in a second.

Damn, she hoped he was okay.

_Why would we do that? You're a human._

"And what about Dib?"

_Who_?

Gaz rolled her eyes, "Agent _Mothman_. Whatever."

Now that she was focusing on the two, the light around her seemed to fade away and the motions in the darkness were easy to ignore. The woman leaned back in her chair, taking her coffee with her, _We are not in a position to tell you._

"You mean you don't know?"

_Oh, we know. It's a suprise._

_ Don't be mean to her._

_ SHE KILLED MY PARTNER!_

_ ... We _told_ you to be careful. I told you to avoid killing the Professor at all costs._

There was silence, until the man said, _The coward left me no other choice._

"BASTARD!" Gaz screamed upon hearing her father slandered. Sure, he was a terrible father, but she was not exactly the ideal little girl. And _Dib_ certainly was not the model son. She jumped to her feet, the glass on the floor cutting onto the soles of her feet, but aside from a little cringe, she did not notice it.

There there was a snap and the light was gone. It was silent, then, the red light was gone and replaced by the spiraling colors around her. Gaz hissed in anger, scooting back against the wire frame of the bed.

It was silent again. She must have destroied the camera with her mind. Interesting, she had never _know_ she was able to do things like that. The colors died down, or at least, they did not seem so bad now that she was filled with boiling rage. Not _only_ had they murdered her Dad, not _only_ had they betrayed Dib, but they were not going to tell her what they had planned for her.

_They had murdered her father!_

Her anger was then gone and replaced with a terrible void. Like, an implosion in her chest or something. She raised her hands to her eyes and found that they burned when they touched her blackened skin. She took them away, and felt a little tug, like the shadows around her eyes were aweful, wet, sticky things. She wondered if these new eyes of hers could even _cry._

She felt tears slide down her cheeks to the corners of her mouth. Okay, good. She could cry. She always tried to avoid crying. It was weakness to her, and she detested weakness, but sometimes she could not avoid it. She lay back again, letting the tears glide into her hair and onto the matress and tried not to think about anything.

Not Zim. Not about how he must be panicking, screaming at his computer to find her. Scolding himself for letting her out of his sight. Blaming himself for everything.

Not GIR. Not about how he must be wailing inconsolably one moment, just to forget about her the next. Not Minimoose, who was trying his best to be useful.

Not Dib, who was dealing with the lost of their Dad as well as frantically searching for her. Was he trying to call her? Where was her phone? It was in her room, wasn't it? Or, her purse? Where was her purse? She tried remembering, because it helped her not think about the others. It helped her not to cry. And she hated crying. It made her eyelids swell up and it made her eyes red.

Not like they were not _already_ red.

"_Dad_ knew something about this." She said, "He knew and they shot him... They _shot_ him. How could they do that?"

She turned over on her side and curled up, crying with more fire, now, trying to keep the sound of the gunshots from her ears and the tears from her eyes. She tried something aweful. But it never worked.

"_Tears are a good thing, honey._" her father used to say, "_Crying is scientifically proven to reduce stress. Not as much as laughing, of course, my dear, but sometimes crying is the better option._" She laughed a little, but felt aweful for it because he would _never_ be able to give her advise again, and he had given her so little before.

"Oh Dad!" she sobbed, "Dad, why did they have to _kill you_?"

There were pounding footsteps down the hall. Gaz turned her eyes to where she was certain the door was, and was at once blinded by the light that accompanied the door swinging open. The shards of mirror that had fallen to the floor glowed, and the beam of a flashlight shone directly on her face. She screamed and reeled back, the light not only burned the tears from her eyes, but also the black skin around it, as if half of her face was now shadow.

It was the man from the survelliance room, "Get up."

Hissing in pain and anger, she forced herself into the light. A small piece for glass cut into the sole of her foot as she set it on the tile floor. She did not care. It was not the first cut. She took another step and one shard lodged right into her heel. It would not be the last. Her hand twitched in pain and exitement. She could kill him. He was just _asking _to get killed. The light burned her skin, and more glass cut into her feet as she walked forward, but she did it anyway. She could barely see who it was she was going to kill, but she raised her hand regardless, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the skin of her hand becoming shadow, her nails becoming claws again.

"Hell no." the voice spat. He shoved a hand into her chest and pushed her back, knocking the wind out of her. Her feet were practically shreded by the glass, but she barely noticed it for the dull, wide pain in her head and shoulders. She had hit the wall. Hard. Hard enough to knock her delirious for a moment.

She opened her eyes and focused on him. He was tall, about as tall as Dib, about as skinny as Zim. Could she take him? Probably. If he did not hold the power over light. She regained her breath fully before she stood up. She could see everything now, the broken mirror on the ground caught him and reflected the light, so she could see a million little pictures of him.

She reached forward and picked the biggest one up, carefully bringing it level with her eyes. She was not scared this time. It did not shatter and she did not scream. In the light of the open door, she could see herself. Her red eyes. Her shadowed face. Her floating hair.

Was she her father's daughter? Was this the face Dib called sister and Zim called dearest? Was this the 'savior of the Irken Empire's' true form? Was this Tak's technopath?

What was she? It was killing her to not know, and the knowledge that she would never hear it said in her father's voice was even worse. She dropped the mirror and covered her eyes again, regardless of the burn. Regardless of the fact that she could feel the darkness infecting her fingers.

"You see it now, don't you?" he asked coldly, "You see what you are? The blight Professor Membrane created? You demon!"

Gaz frowned. She knew she was a clone. She had always known that. She did not know she was a monster. She turned to him, wondering if her red eyes conveyed any sadness or desperation, "What _am_ I?"

"You're a murderer." he answered plainly, "A demon. You won't kill me like you killed my partner."

She was surrounded by a circle of light again. It burned everything and filled each corner of the room, banishing the darkness and burning her clothes to ashes. She screamed in anger and shock and tried to back away, but there was only her small circle of darkness to sit helplessly in. The light behind her was _moving_, hearding her forward and forcing her towards the stranger, on her hands and knees, terribly undignified, so that the glass cut her hands and knees and well, and once her side when she fell.

The light reflected off the glass and hit her tenfold. Why did the light hurt so much? Light never hurt her before. Even with her eyes closed, her eyes burned with fire and tears. Why? She was on the floor in front of him now, struggling to stand, but the light kept her down. Her hair was forming a canopy to protect her, but it was being burned away just as fast as it could weave in on itself.

And he just laughed. He ground his heel into her hand, pressing the cuts against the grimy floor, then, when she cried in pain, he kicked her in the chest, knocking her back into the light.

"Stop _hurting me_!" she screamed, forcing herself to stand. She fell against him, her fingers turning black with shadow. She was glowing with a purple aura. Her hands found his throat and she pinned him down, clutching him so long as the light burned her back and arms, "Stop it!"

He kicked her off again, out into the hallway so she slammed into the opposite wall. The lights marking their way across the hallways shattered. He pushed himself up and slapped her twice, then he took a handful of her shadowy hair and twisted it around his hand. There was an explosion of light from his fist that deadened her nerves and weakened her muscles.

"Come on, stupid girl."

The only light that shown their way now was the man's flashlight, which was not shining on her skin, so it did not hurt her. Her feet did, however. A shard of glass seemed to have lodged in her bare foot, and he would not stop to let her take it out. She was walking on that broken glass with every step, cringing as they made their way along the black hallway.

He roughly pulled her along, making her slip on her own bloodied toes. She was freezing now that her clothes were gone, but she felt something moving in the darkness around her. It was her hair. It was snaking around her chest, forming a makeshift black garment. As she was pulled into another lit hallway she did not bother to question it. She could not, for the pain in her eyes and in her skull. Growling, she raised her free hand up to cover her eyes and shield her shadowed face against the glare.

He guide just forced her to keep walking.

Not like Gaz minded the glass lodged in her foot. If Zim or Dib came for her, they would find a trail that was easy to follow. She left a path of bloody footprints.

If was too optimistic a term, though. She knew the chances of rescue were unlikely. Dib would point fingers right and Zim, and the two were _already_ in a heated argument as it was. The would kill each other before they figured out she was long gone.

She nearly fell again.

"Hey, stupid girl, focus!" He gave her a shake and a harsh slap. She scratched his arm in anger, but his thick sleeve prevented him from taking any damage.

How that light hurt!

She was shoved into another room, then. This one was lit up, just dim enough to be a mild annoyance. It was of considerably better quality than her bare little cell had been, and as her eyes focused she actually saw that this one was a bathroom. The agent slammed the door behind himself. Gaz frowned, so, the unspoken command was for her to take a shower in almost pitch black?

Okay, then.

She stripped of the black dress her powers had formed, and found it dissapated at once, "Weird." she said alout, "Very weird."

She turned on the hot water, wondering why she had to look clean to be put on display and dissected. She shrugged, "People just like their freaks clean, I guess."

She washed her hair, glad she had shaved yesterday because there were no razors around and she was _not_ about to use Nair. Not after what happened _last time_. Then, she wondered why it mattered because she did not exactly have anyone to impress anymore, and in the middle of a rescue there were other things to worry about that were far more important.

Like the fact that the water ran black and red! She knew the red was from the cuts on her hands and feet, but the black? Gaz wiped a hand across her face. Shadow-matter came off, when she held it under the water it dripped away, like ink or black dye, she would even go so far as to say crude oil.

"That _can't_ be good for the pipes."

Then she wondered if she could wash all of the shadows away?

So she tried it, the soap stinging her cut hands as she rubbed it against her shadowed face, but the water always ran black down her chest and into the drain. Why was it doing that? Maybe it was just a trick of the light? No, no, she had taken showers in semi-darkness before. Soapy water did not turn jet black, unless you were using jet black soap. It was like her skin just secreated black oil paint.

Desiding it was useless to clog the sewage with what ever strange substance she was producing (trying saying that on a regular day and not giggle stupidly!) she turned off the water and stepped out onto the cold tile floor. She grabbed a towel and found that when she tried to sqeaze dry her hair the parts of it that were not really _hair_ so much as they were shadow came away and stained the terrycloth. When she tried to dry her face? The same thing happened.

Her heart pounded as she stared at the ruined towel, she held it up to the best light in a vice-like grip, breathing heavy. Slowly, shaking, she lowered it, and she saw herself reflected in the mirror, her drifting hair, her blood-red eyes and her darkened face. Why the hell would it not go away? Would it ever? was this a permanent change?

She reached for the hair dryer and flicked it on, but she did not hold it to her hair, she held it to her face. Her primary concern was removing the shadows. Now. She felt her eyes dry out, then the shadow-matter. Little bits of it fell to the counter-top like bits of black glitter, then it fell in bigger chunks, like obsidian. It took a while, but she managed to clear most of the blackness away, so her skin was pale again. For a second, regardless of her red eyes, she was normal again.

Sighing with relieve, her red eyes remained, but it was a step in the right direction. She took the drier to her hair and found that it fell away like black silk threads, until her feet were surrounded by them, but at least they were _gone_. She set the hairdryer down and snatched up a brush. When she looked back at herself, she stifled a scream and the mirror cracked.

The shadows were coming back, dripping down her face from under her hair.

"Daddy... Dad, what am I?"

* * *

[1.] Oh, Spongebob!

A: Stop ending on cliffhangers.

B: GET BETTER AT HORROR!

C: GET A JOB!

I'm running out of steam. This story should probably end soon (unless, of course, it dosen't... It actually might not, it's up in the air) which means I can get on to other things. I dunno what yet. Either Divergence or more stuff for IZ.


	18. Chapter 18

Meta-Morphine.

(Discliamed.)

I've been trying to avoid updating this for a while to give Sideos and Poodlebrain a chance to catch up. Sorry, you two, I can't wait anymore.

* * *

Chapter eighteen: Birdcage or Mousetrap?

Fuck waiting. Just fuck it. Fuck waiting for Dib to explain security and fuck a group effort.

Zim broke the heavy lock on the warehouse door after picking it with a PAK leg. GIR cheered as it fell to his feet. He had broken it out of simple rage, really. The same reason he kicked the door in. He had one free hand, sure, the other had a flame thrower in it, and you only needed _one_ hand to push open a door, but _kicking it in_ felt so much better. These people had taken something rather precious to him, after all. The least he could do was demolish the place, razing it to the ground in order to find Gaz, and he _would_ find her.

The Dibhuman might even come here at nightfall to discover he had already taken care of it.

He stared into the darkness, it was lit by the cyan gleam from GIR's eyes and the bright sun from outside. It was cool and dark, the kind of place Gaz would actually enjoy being in on a regular day. He closed his eyes and strained to hear anything in the black pitch, his sensitive antennae going still in consentration. He could not hear much of anything, least of all Gaz.

There was more to this place, as Dib had said. Zim left the door open to let some light in, so he could walk around and examine every corner, searching for the secret entrance to the underground complex. Frowning, Zim continued his careful going over, growling in frustration by the time he had given the large warehouse a second sweep.

His antennae flickered and he caught Gaz's scent. "It's around here." he said, turning. His eyes searching for light. He crouched down on the floor, all of his senses focusing on her scent. He felt a rush of cold air on his fingers and saw a thin sliver of light. He lowered his head to the crack, closing his eyes and listening. He heard footsteps, murmering voices, then, nothing. The light flickered off. Then there was silence.

He pushed aside the box hapharzardly covering the secret entrance and tried to slip his claws under the edge. No luck. He fished the carkey out of his pocket and handed it to GIR, then he opened the robot's head and took out the titanium gauntlets he had made for himself and slipped them on over his gloves, "GIR, there is a crowbar in the backseat, go and get it."

"Yes sir!"

No sooner had his eyes flashed red than he had returned, the crowbar in his hands. "Did you remember to lock the car?"

He vanished again. Zim returned his attention to the door. There was an electric panel, which he could easily destroy, and he could force the door open. Dib probably knew the security code. Did he want to wait?

Fuck no!

Was this electric panel connected on a main computer?

Probably.

He jammed the crowbar into the crack and forced the door open, it took a while, but soon there was an opening big enough for GIR to get through. The SIR unit had returned then, and so over the effort of fighting with a stubborn sliding door he said, "GIR, get in there and see if there is away to open it from the inside."

Of course, there probably was not. It would be too easy, and it would allow any prisoners to walk right out. He had gotten it wide enough to slip through himself now, using the crowbar to keep it open, he dropped down beside GIR, who seemed to be in the process of disobeying his orders and running off. Zim jerked the bar out of the door, and it slammed with a loud_ bang!_ that pobably allerted everyone to his intrusion.

GIR was about to run screaming off. He had to handle that first.

"Silence, GIR!" he hissed, sweeping him up with the crowbar. The wide end was the perfect size to wedge around his head and lift him up. Red eyes met cyan for a moment, then Zim gently yanked him out, "Stay close to your master!"

"Okie-dokie."

He started to set the robot down, but decided against it, and set him on his shoulder. After all, there was one thing that really _would_ keep GIR from running off, and that was making a point of carrying him. He picked up his flamethrower again and let the robot's eyes serve as his flashlight. He wandered in the semidarkness for a while, until he reached a hallway that was lit up. No one was around, so he turned his head, trying to deside which way Gaz had been taken.

"Left." he mumbled aloud, taking the left pathway. His boots echoed down the empty passageway, but he heard no voices and no one confronted him. It was just that, a hallway. No doors. Nothing. He wondered were it was heading breifly, only to be distracted by a door to his left, with a little plaque beside it that read, _conference hall_.

He was fairly certain they would not put Gaz in there to just keep her around, but he pushed the door open anyway. He did not enter the room, he just stared at the table. On the far end there was a small podium, with a cage beside it. Zim frowned, it looked like a huge bird cage. He stepped forwards out of curiosity, then, wondering if it was labled. His eyes fell to the seating names on the table. These were not casual seating cards, these were more formal. More durable, made of fake wood.

But none of them actually had a name. It seemed that most countries had their basic equivilant of _Presidentman_. In fact, Zim saw two _Presientman_ plaques. One for America, one for Mexico. There were probably more. He saw several _Dictatorman'_s. A few _Royaltyman_'s.

He turned his eyes back to the cage, from the table, it looked to be in decent condition, but as he walked towards it he could see that something had knawed on the bars. A closer examination revealed that a great many somethings had been placed inside that cage. He could see marks from at least five sets of teeth, and that was over layers and layers of dents. For what end had they done such a thing? He looked around, from this angle he could see hand-held signs with numbers on them under the podium, and he frowned again, "They have all the makings of... an auction."

He looked back at the cage, and the frightening image of Gaz trapped inside it filled his mind. He was horrified at the thought, partly because he enjoyed it, partly because he had a terrible suspition it would come to pass. Without really thinking, he swung the crowbar into the door of the cage, knocking it off its hinges. Crying out, he tore it apart, as if Gaz really was trapped inside, heedless of the noise he made in the process. The sound of metal buckleing and crashing and snapping. His own curses. When he had knocked it off its pedistal and had broken it in two, he looked around. The base echoed with the sounds of his outburst.

It had been a stupid choice, but he did not regret it in the least. If they were going to sell Gaz, they would not put her in a _cage_. Hell no, he would never let that happen. He stepped away from it, then for good measure, rearranged the plaques so sworn enemy nations were sitting right next to each other for the sheer hell of it. He knew it was a waste of time, but he felt the need to spite them.

He took the second door out, into a series of back halls, one door lead to an auditorium, the second a smaller conference room, this one was not prepared for a meeting. He took the opposite door out in that room, hopefully clearing the area enough. Maybe someone was just discovering the busted cage.

Gaz's scent was stronger now, so strong he could acutally pick a good heading to follow. He went right, then right again almost immediately afterwards, into a dark hallway. It ended in a flight of stairs, which Zim took dowards with out question, following her trail into darkness.

"I think we're close, GIR."

"Good." the robot responded, "I can hardly wait to see Miss Gazzy."

There was broken glass on the floor of the hallway Zim ended his descent on. It was the last basement level, and the level that Gaz's scent was strongest on. Zim's grip tightened on the crowbar as sparks flew from the ceiling. The lights had all exploded. Why had they exploded?

Fortunately, her trail was essentially a line. He reached a door with a peculiar design painted on it in white. He tested the knob to find it locked, he pounded on the wood, "Gaz?" No answer, but no matter, the trail lead on. His boot slipped in something, though. It was not too far, but it was enough to make him gasp and look downwards.

There was a trail of bloody footprints leading down the hallway! Zim knelt down and compared the size to his hand. Judging from the size and the smell, it was Gaz's print as well as her blood. Why were her feet bleeding? The broken glass? Who would make a girl walk on broken glass? How recent was it?

He held his hand over the liquid to feel any radiating heat. Nothing. It had faded to room tempurature by now, but it was still wet enough to make him slip. "Come on, GIR, this blood isn't fresh. Keep your eyes focused on the trail."

"Yes sir."

It was easier to track her when he had a visual lead, not a scent to follow. He could run, now, regardless of how loud his footsteps were in the dark hallway. He came to a lit passageway soon enough, which allowed his pace to quicken even more. He was close. He was so damn close, he could taste her in the air now, and he had to fight not to scream out her name. Someone else was around, his scent had been there the entire time, while running, Zim managed to run the new data through his memory banks.

This was one of the two that had been at the Membrane household.

Zim skidded to a halt and slammed into a wall. The foot prints stopped at a door, and he could not smell Gaz for any point beyond that. He tried knocking on the door. No reaction. Not a sound. It was unlocked, though. This was a bathroom. Weird, but it helped the auction theory. Who wanted to buy a filthy human child? It would explain why he could not smell her. Her scent had been masked with soap and worn away with water.

Why was the black stuff everywere? Zim knelt down and scooped up what looked like shorn black hair, it carried Gaz's scent but it was not her hair color. Besides, her hair was not that long and she would not leave it strewn across the bathroom floor. Through the tears in his gloves, he could feel that it was the texture and strength of silk. He gathered it up and swept the black dust on the counter. He left it in a pile while he searched the cabinets for a plastic bag. Finding a plastic bag, he scooped it up and put the bag in GIR's head (he had next to nothing in there currently).

Time to put that other scent to work. Zim followed it to where it stopped at a second door, then left again. He paused at this second door. It bore the same white seal and he could pick of a faint trace of Gaz. It was locked, another good sign that someone was inside.

He knocked.

He was greeted with a little yelp.

He set the crow bar and the flamethower down and forced the lock open with a PAK leg. That was a distinct 'Gaz-yelp.' He threw the door open, trying to step forward into blind darkness.

He ran strait into a set of bars. He groaned a little as a pair of warm human hands found his own and she huddled close to him, dispite the metal rods between them, "Zim!"

"Hold on..." he groaned, "Ouch, that really hurt, I'll pick the other lock. Curiosity, why is it so dark?"

"Light... It... It hurts."

"What?" he pulled away so that he could get a good look at the lock in question that he was supposed to pick, but in doing so he caught sight of a slightly diffirent Gaz. He thought at first that half of her face was in shadow, but quickly noticed her bright red eyes. Something was reaching out of the darkness towards him, which looked strangely like hair. Curiously, he held his hand up and let the black lock curl around his wrist, "What happened?"

"I—I'm not sure, but... But I have _powers_ Zim, and I... I'm sorry."

"I'm just sorry these stupid bars are in my way." he pulled his hand from her hair and focused on the lock. There was a loud click that echoed down the hall and the bars swung away. He looked back at her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She still looked like Gaz, her mouth was the same, even if her lips were trembling a bit more than normal, and a little swollen, too, as if she had been bitting on it to calm her nerves. Damn, that was distracing. He stepped forward to give her the kiss of a lifetime before he scolded her.

But GIR got there first.

"GAZZY!" he shouted, jumping from Zim's shoulder to her chest. She gasped as she was knocked down onto the bed, and in the darkness, he heard springs creaking. "MISTRESS GAZZY!"

"Quite, GIR, don't you realize what will happen if you're heard?" Gaz asked.

Yes, that was Gaz, all right. Zim turned around and snatched up the flame thrower and crowbar, moving to the inside of the cell. GIR was quietly celebrating, and Zim could tell by the faint grin on her lips that Gaz was happy to see him. Zim joined them on the bed, letting desire distract him for a moment.

She gasped a little and her red eyes lock with his. In the darkness, he could fool himself into thinking that she was an _Irken_ female. Not like he cared, of course. She was just in his arms again, and no amount of darkness was going to change that, "I was worried."

"I was, too." she whispered. She looked towards the open door, "If someone finds you—"

"If they do, we will be escaping... Or maybe still here..."

"Z—mrrph!"

His hands searched her. The fabric she was wearing seemed to crumble away as his hands touched it, like the powder found on the cabinet in the bathroom, which would normally be considered convienent, but at the moment it was a happy curse. Now that he _knew_ how easily her skin could be exposed, that little lusty part of himself was demanding to take her that very moment. For once, his mind agreed with his PAK. He tried to ignore the little moans she made against his neck and he tried to ignore the presistent, uncontrolable caress of her hips against his. He told himself more than her, "Come on."

"No—"

He had stood up and was pulling on her wrist, but at her protest, he turned around, "No? You _want_ to be held captive here?"

Kinky, but he could always whip up a situation like that in the hologram room for her.

"The _light_ Zim, I can't go out in it."

He frowned. He had remembered her saying something along those lines a few minutes before. Was there anything he could cover her with? If Dib were around, his trench coat would be the obvious answer. _But,_ the Irken reminded himself with a sigh_ Dib is not here. What else is there? Sheets on the bed? _In the darkness he could see that there was a thick blanket. He pulled Gaz and his SIR unit off, sweeping the blanket up and throwing it over her head, "Would that help?"

"Well, it's worth a try, I'll give you that." she said letting him guide her towards the doorway. He let GIR ride on her shoulder under the blanket. He let two of his PAK legs hold the crowbar, because Gaz was far more valuable to him that it was, and walked with her out into the hallway, where he waited for her to pass judgement, "I-I think it'll work, but I feel so useless!"

Zim chuckled. He knew how much she detested being useless, he even avoided lecturing her for it. He could give her an ear-ful, easily. If she had not broken her transmission bracelet, he would have been there sooner, after all. Maybe not soon enough to save her father, but soon enough to keep her from being captured.

Some of the fault was his own, though. If he had just been there, if he had never turned her invitation down! So stupid!

"Is Dib all right?"

"Yes. Your brother is fine. He advised we wait until nightfall. I hate waiting."

"Oh. It's good that you did. They want him, too."

With out really realizing it, Zim was following the second scent. It made sense, of course. He would find the human, and get a few answers. He had almost no idea what was going on, he got the feeling Gaz was in the same boat, why not pound them out of the first other person they found?

He came to another door, this one clearly labled _survelliance. _The Irken frowned, if they had security and survelliance, why had the alarms not gone off? Had he just been lucky? Most likely, but surely there had been a camera in Gaz's room? Well, now was the perfect time to dissable their system. Pushing Gaz behind him, (clever manuvering of his PAK legs caged her in, insuring no one would snatch her from behind) he let it swing open.

The only lights came from the screens, most of which were off. It seemed that no one was really using the base currently. One screen displayed the room he and Gaz had just occupied, the other two the surrounding hallway. Another one was for the conference room, where someone was picking over the wreaked cage.

He head the blanket falling to the floor and felt Gaz's hands reaching for his arm, "Zim—."

"Protocol calls for haste." he said, knealing down to pick up the blanket and cover her again. The human's scent had now been joined by another, and both of them lead to a different exit. It was probably not going to be dark were they went next.

The exit was actually a lift. With a little bit of uncertainty, Zim pushed the up botton and waited, just as many humans did, for the elevator to reach their floor. He half expected someone to greet them, and they would have a fight on their hands, but it was empty. With Gaz on his arm and GIR on his shoulder, Zim stepped forward and pressed the button for the top basement level. It would make their escape quicker, even if they ran into a small army of humans.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Zim did not buy it for a second. She was shaking uncontrolably. He could smell her fear. What was she afraid of? What human (aside from her or her brother) stood a chance against him?

The elevator deposited them out side of the smaller conference room. Zim could not help but let a soft curse hiss between his teeth as he stepped away, his eyes glued on the door. Which was the quicker way to this elevator, through that room, or around the hallway? Through that room, obviously, and the quickest way to the surface was on the same route.

Good. Zim wanted to face him, anyway. With out any fear, he opened the door into the smaller conference room, "Stay here if you want. I believe there is someone a head of us."

"Damn it... I—"

She cut her self off. He heard a hand slapping over her mouth, and she whimpered a little, as if merely mentioning the thing would bring it down upon her, "What?" Zim asked.

"This one guy... He's got... these powers." There was a closet. Zim quickly guided her towards it and hid her inside, the unspoken command was for her to remain quiet, the promise that he would return. "I... I'm completely useless against him... The light, Zim, he can make light. Don't think of fighting him alone, Zim... Zim...?"

She was almost completely in darkness now, probably enough darkness to make the light not hurt so much. He lifted up the blanket and kissed her breifly on the cheek with out a word. He let the blanket drop again and shut her inside the closet. There was nothing in there but coffee and coffee filters. Maybe some styropham cups and tea. She would be fine in there while he handled this strange human. Taking the crowbar from the PAK legs and making sure the flamethrower still had kerosene inside it, he opened the door, GIR at his heels.

"There you are."

He had blue eyes, blonde hair. Not like Zim really made a point of knowing the eye and hair colors of the man he was going to kill. The human was walking in a slow arch, trying to get Zim to move as well. The Irken smirked, his zipper-like teeth gleaming. Like he — a superior mind! — was going to fall for such a simple trick. In moving, he would allow this human unhindered acess to Gaz's hiding place. He would never allow that.

He steadied himself, never looking back at the door, his eyes giving nothing away, he opened his mouth to speak, "Wh—"

"Where is Dib?" the human asked.

"Now see here!" Zim shouted, "You do not abduct the lifemate of ZIM and then ask him where her filthy brother is! Zim asks the questions here, not you! Why did you take Gaz from me?"

"Look, you've got her back, so before I kill you, tell me where Dib is."

"Kill me? Pitiful human! No one kills the almighty Zim!"

"Look, I don't want to bat words around with you. This is a conference table, not a ping-pong table—"

"That sounded like batting words—"

"Shut up!" the human exclaimed. His menacing advance was made slightly less frightening because he had to walk around the table to get at Zim. The Irken hooked the cage with the crowbar and shoved it into his chest. He was forced back into the wall, and Zim jumped at the opening, twisting the metal around his opponent.

He was completely useless then. Zim smirked as he made sure the dismantled cage was completely entwined around him, so that he would be struggling for quite some time before he got free.

"Now, why did you take her?"

"You honestly don't know what she is?" the human asked, "That bitch—"

Zim punched him, the metal plates on his hand cutting deep into his skin, the he back handed him again for good measure, leaving lighter scratches. _No body _— with the exception of the Dibcreature — called Gaz a bitch and got away with it. Not even the Irken himself!

"— Is a demon. Strait up. A disgrace. She's not naturally born. She's not even human."

"Foolish creature! I have studied Gaz far more that _you_ ever have. I should not expect_ you_ to know anything, should I? You're just following orde—"

He heard Gaz scream.

It was in terrible form to turn your back on your opponent, but Irken ediquette had no guidelines regarding loved ones, and when it came to answers regarding Gaz and Gaz _herself_, the purple-haired human won, hands down. Besides, the human was tied up. He tore open the door into the smaller conference room, to find her struggling with another woman, who had ripped the blanket off of her and had turned up the lights to full force.

Her blackened skin was hissing and steaming, her red eyes wide as she clawed at her shadowed face and hair now, flailing against the wall like a moth trapped agianst a light. He scooped up the blanket and covered her with it, shoving the woman back with the legs of his PAK and scooping Gaz up, shooting towards the conference room. The blonde human was getting up again, the cage falling away, as if compelled by magic.

GIR followed him towards the opposite door, ramming it open with his metal body. Zim tumbled out after him, heading towards the secret exit. A wall of fire appeared in his path, cursing, he held Gaz to his chest and jumped over it, breaking her fall with his own body. GIR tumbled off of his shoulders, and landed about five feet away, unharmed, but to amazed to do anything.

He made sure Gaz was well behind him when he got to his knees and picked up the flame thrower, "You like, fire, huh?" he shouted, pulling back on the lever and letting the flames shoot forward towards the agent. He was pushed back a little, beyond his own firewall, but his own fire was pushed back, scoring the floors and walls and blasting them with an almost suffocating heat.

He felt the flamethrower grow hot in his hands. It did not normally behave like that. Taking it as a warning, he hurled it forward, pushing himself and Gaz backwards as it exploded, singeing them both. It could have been much worse, though. It could have exploded in his hands, that would have killed him, maybe her, too.

He heard the other human scream in pain, but it quickly turned to laughter as the fire was abruptly snuffed out. He felt something flutter beside him and heard Gaz screaming, then. He turned his head to see a blinding pillar of light, and inside it was Gaz, being forced to her feet to try to avoid it.

He jumped forward, branishing the crowbar like a sword. He caught the human around the neck and jerked him down, so that his knee rammed into his stomach. He twisted the tool and pushed him down to the floor, so that the flat metal was pressing against his neck, "Stop _hurting_ her! You _bastard_ what ever you're doing, stop it!"

He turned it, so that he could push it deeper into his throat, cutting off more air and causing a great deal of pain, he could tell by the suffocated gasps and pained breaths that he did manage to draw. Gaz continued to scream, though. He could still feel the pillar of light behind him.

The human kicked him off, knocking him down the hallway, and he hit the floor painfully beside Gaz. He could see her through the blinding light, clawing at her shadowed face and hair, as if trying to free herself from it. He tried to reach out to her, but she was surrounded by some sort of forcefield.

"You see that? You call _that_ a human? I should not expect you to know anything, though, you're not even human yourself."

"SILENCE!" Zim jumped at him again, ramming the crowbar once into his middle, then once into his neck, then he flipped it upwards, knocking his chin backwards. He dropped down, sweeping his legs out from under him, then snatched up his gun, aiming it at his head and planting his boot on his chest, pinning him down.

"Stop hurting her. It does not matter what she is, she belongs to Zim and you will not hurt her!"

The human smirked, despite the fact that he was looking death in the eye.

Light.

A sharp pain on the back of his neck.

Darkness.

* * *

Damnit! Damnit Mandatory-ten-page-length-I-give-myself. And damn you cliffs! They just keep popping up, so I have to hang off of them helplessly until I claw my way back up!

Ooooooh... I dunno... I think we focused too much on the action and too little on Zim's reaction to Gaz's transformation. He was preocupied, I guess.

But what could they possibly do with him now? ~GASP!~


	19. Chapter 19

Meta Morphine.

(Disclaimed)

This chapter, though a headache, was fun. For two reasons: one, I finally cracked the dynamic between Dib and Tak that I was looking for, two I get to write Dib talking to himself. I tried to make it hillarious.

I don't think it worked.

* * *

Chapter ninteen: The last two pawns

Dib's hands were still shaking when the door to the Swollen Eyeball's underground HQ slid open. He had wondered how the scanner had gotten a clear reading of his hand print, his entire arm was unsteady, and the retinal scan was nearly botched because he kept blinking. His voice cracked when he was speaking the password and he could hardly collect his thoughts enough to enter the security code into the numberpad.

It was a miracle that door had been opened in the first place. Partly because of his nerves, partly because Zim had damaged it considerably forcing it open and partly because Dib had almost been certain the SEN had taken his reading out of the identification system. But they had not. It Tak asked in the darkness beside him, "Do you think Zim has been captured?"

"I don't know." That was why his hands were still shaking. Upon seeing that Zim's car was empty, Dib was overcome with sheer, deep, insurmoutable, cripling, blinding, deafening, complete, _panic_. About as much fear as an eighteen-year-old could muster, about as much to break a world's record for swears in one minute, "I—I want to think he's okay, but if they see him... They'll find out he's Irken—"

"Zim is an elite soldier." Dib had a hard time telling of Tak's tone was bitter or reassuring, "He knows the risk of setting foot in an enemy's territory."

Dib frowned, his hands still shaking at his heart pounding with stress and worry. His head hurt like a bad hangover, and he was sober. It was pathetic. Why the hell did Zim have to run off on his own? Dib could have sworn he was smarter than that. He knew the risks, too. He barely even wanted Zim in there, and he had Zim were on pretty rocky terms, it seemed, he definantly did not was Gaz in there, but that was why he was here in the first place.

But now _Tak_ was in danger. Dib knew he could take care of himself, but risking her life? Even if she _was_ better than him, he did not want her jumping into a risky situation. She was better than him, and that was what made this even more terrifying. If the SEN headquarters chewed her up and spit her out, he could do nothing on his own, and it would all be his fault.

If she kept out of it, at least his last thought could be that she was okay. "Stay here—"

"— Fuck you." Tak said, swinging her legs into the trap door, "Zim may be an idiot, but he's an _Irken_ idiot and he's only in there because I loaned him my hologram generator. Besides, if anyone is going to pulling any dead weight, it's me. You're useless. Mimi!"

The robot jumped on her arm and she held it out so that she could look her SIR unit in the eye, "Your master wants you to wait out here and notify her if anyone comes by." She extended her arm and the robot jumped up onto a shelf, assuming the cat from, more like a witch's familiar than a robot. With a quick nod to Dib, she plunged into the simidarkness below. She looked up at him, her face impatient, her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, I love you, too."

Her frow deepened, "Well! Good to see we are on the same page."

He droped down beside her, wondering which way Zim had gone, but Tak already seemed to know. He followed the red beacon Mimi's soft glow provided down the hallway. Then there was screaming. And something expoding with such force it rocked the walls. More shouting. A body or two slamming to the floor. Chaos. When the noise died down Dib realised he had clamped his hand over Tak's mouth and was clutching her to him. It was a fair trade. She had done the same thing, the legs of her PAK shooting out to form a barrier between them and what ever was ahead. There eyes met in the red simi-darkness for a moment and an unspoken conversation flashed by in a moment.

_Scared the hell out of me._

_ I know._

_I think that was Zim._

_Probably. Let's wait a moment._

_ No argument here._

He let her go, then. Well, not really. He took his hand away from her mouth, at least, but he still kept his arm around her waist. They listened to the retreating footsteps for a moment, tense, and they heard the sounds of a body being dragged and Gaz struggling. They must have them both, then. Dib's grip tightened on Tak's waist, and her hands took greater handfuls of his shirt.

Then, as quickly as she had gripped him, she let him go, clearing her throat, "Zim and your sister are in danger. We move on."

She swept her holographic hair behind her ear and hunched over, angry with herself and at how easily she could jump on him. She was probably disgusted with herself, but he certainly was not. She had been making little mistakes for their entire treck across the globe. But _he_ was the desperate idiot, not her, he was the one that would joyfully take what ever scraps she accidentally dropped infront of him.

They had reached the hallway, then, it was brightly lit and completely abandoned, they checked opposite directions, then looked back at eachother. Tak said softly, "Awfully empty for a headquarters."

"Well, the Swollen Eyeball operate on a volunteer basis, and we don't actually keep the HQ well manned during the week days, they all have jobs, you see. They don't normally kidnap _humans_, Actually, they rarely get anything. It should stay like this for most of the night."

"But they have rather important guests coming." Tak whispered back, "Do you mean to say they will not put on a full reception for their business partners?"

"Let's not think about that!" Dib replied, "Come on, they will all be bringing their body guards, and _now_ they will probably sell Zim along with Gaz... Or keep him and dissect him."

"Now _that_ is something we should not think about. Come on, they dragged him this way." She opened the door to the conference room and they stared slack-jawed at the disarray for a while, then again to each other. There was a cage in two and several other, smaller, pieces strewn across the room. The door had been used to tie some one up, by the looks of things, but it had been easily torn off and thrown on top of the table.

"I hear an elevator." she said, "And your sister. This way."

She strode across the room, stopping for just a moment to kick half of the cage out of her way. By the time her hand had come to rest on the doorknob, something in her PAK beeped, "Ah, that would be Mimi." she said, letting a screen rise up and drop down infront of her face. She watched it for a while and turned to him, "Some old man."

Dib jumped at any excuse to get close to her, and the pale coloring on the screen was the perfect one. He examined the figure scanning his hand, and old man in janitor's uniform with a barely-recognizable logo on the shoulder, but Dib was certain it said _Nasaplace._

"Agent Darkbootie."

Tak snorted. She covered her nasal slits and let her shoulders bounce as she giggled, "How are we supposed to take a guy named _Darkbootie_ seriously?"

"Tak, he's head of the SEN!"

"Oooh... So that's why this is easy!"

"Tak! It's easy because it has the making of a _trap_, not because Agent Darkbootie—"

"We have _got_ to call him something else!"

"— is incompetent."

"Sorry, sorry!" The screen retreated back into her PAK, "We move out now."

She took out a lazer pistol from her PAK and grabbed his collar. He opened the door for her and they followed what Dib assumed was a woman's intuition through the hallways to the supposed elevator. They eventually found it out in the hallway, "Dib, were would they take Gaz and Zim?"

"I think the holding cells are on the last floor. This elevator should deposit us in the survelliance room."

"Is there any other way?"

"Each floor has only one, if I remember correctly, they are staggered, some are centrally located, others are out one the sides—"

"So that any intruder can be caught in a pincer strike?" Tak asked, "Each station covers the floor above and below it, not just the floor it is on?"

"Right. All of the stations communicate."

"Makes sense. The Massive has the same latticework security layout. I am assuming they have stealth-based alarms, then? No point in rallying troops that are not there with sirens and lights, right?"

"You're suggesting they already know we are here?"

"No one's coming because we aren't out numbered. What ever happens, its a fair fight untill we get Zim and Gaz." She pressed the down button, "We take this to the second to last floor. Take the stairs down. Find those two, get the hell out of here."

"Okay."

"Tell me why you have not taken out your gun, soldier?"

She had a point. While she stepped into the elevator, he fumbled with the weapon strapped to his leg, making sure it was loaded and ready to be fired. The elevator dropped down to the sixth floor and the doors slid open again, into another empty hallway, "I'm pretty sure this is the normal living quarters."

"Oh great." she said walking ahead of him, "Bedrooms. No funny ideas."

He _instantly_ got ideas. Good ones. Great ones. He tried not to let it show in his face, but now that she was walking out of arms reach his eyes were hopelessly drawn to the gentle sway of her hips. Granted, it was not as bad as it normally was, most of the time she had been wearing skirts, and those had swished as she walked, making the movement fuller and more sensual than it was.

Now it was just Tak and he kind of wished he was working with Zim because Zim did not have a nice ass and his voice was not higher than his own and no amout of makeup or skirts would ever make the defective Irken attractive to Dib and—

"Dibhuman!" Tak said from a few yards up the hallway, "Focus on something else! I am beginning to think you do not care about your own sister!"

"S-sorry, I do... but..."

She sighed heavily, but it was more of a groan and Dib tried not to let it add fuel to the fire. He quickened his pace to follow her and managed to _not_ put his arm around her shoulders. How he acieved this he would never actually _know_ because her shoulders, like the rest of her,had and annoying habit of just plain_ being there _and being as smooth and cool as —

"FOCUS!" she hissed, slapping him. She grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him on, "Show me where the stairs are, you insatiable pig!"

She also had a strange way of yelling and whispering at the same time. He let her drag him along and muttered directions from time to time, and being pulled along by his shirt was fine and well until they got to the stairs, where he was in danger of falling over. Fortunately, he had put his gun away on safety, so if he _did_ fall, no one would get hurt or killed, or at least their position would not be given away by the loud noise.

And he _did_ fall, because gravity was a harsh mistress, dragging Tak with him for a few blind moments of tumbling in the dark. It did not last very long, though. As soon as he had felt gravity jerk him down, he had hooked his arm around her waist, she had let go of him and had gripped the banister, he had jammed his feet against the wall, bringing them to an abrupt halt about ten seconds after the fall had started.

She was just _inches_ away from him. The kind of close that was torture because he could practically feel her lips on his when in reality she was no were _near _kissing him. Here eyelids fluttered a bit and he heard her hands tightening on the railing. Her breath caught in her throat, but she did not move. She was probably fighting not to, because she could hardly trust herself sometimes and he knew it.

He counted on it. Sometimes. Most of the time.

All the time.

"Impressive reflexes." she said, letting go of the banister and pushing herself away from him, "Now let me go."

_None today, Dib._

"All right." as much as he hated it, he loosened his tight hold around her waist and let her climb off of him. She straitened out her clothes and checked herself for injuries, then extended her hand to him to help him to stand. He could pull her down on top of him again, but the situation was pressing and called for action, not pointless screwing around, "You okay?"

"I'm fine." she responded once he was standing. She easily slipped her hand out of his own, "That little tumble was my fault. I should not drag you."

She turned around and continued down the stairs. The landing was not far, but it also offered no clues as to the location of Zim and Gaz. She stood there for a moment, her hands on her hips, turning her head from left to right, muttering something to herself.

He was just glad he could not hear screaming. Where ever they were, they were not being hurt, and the auction was probably not for another hour or two, so they were not being sold, either.

"No sign of him?"

"No sign." Tak grumbled, "I'll go left, you go right."

"Let's not split up."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to lose you."

"Then kindly perfect the art of spontaneous cloneing because we _cannot_ be in two places at once otherwise."

Dib bit down on his lip to keep from trying to shoot a remark back. She had a point and he could not argue with her about it. It was split up or work at half effectiveness. Which would he chose? Her security or theirs? It was a hopeless choice. A wicked, terrible, hopeless choice and he had to chose it. "Look, when Mimi tells us the leaders of Earth show up, we'll head back to the conference room, because we know at least Gaz will be there."

"You think we can take on the body gaurds they bring with them? _None_ of them will take too kindly to two teenagers running off with the very prize they gathered for."

"I know."

"And you suggest we take her and double back for Zim?"

"If its all we_ can_ do. I just don't want _you_ to get captured, too."

"And what about _my_ feelings, Dib? You think I am ditching you because I'm just _aching_ to hear you begging for help and mercy on the other side of the floor?"

"I _hoped_ not."

"And so what do we do?"

"I don't want to split up."

She groaned in frustration, "Look, it's practical—"

"—But it's not safe."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, obviously frustraited, "Using a _condom_ is safe but you never do that."

"Don't bring that up right now!"

"I will bring it up when I feel like it." she said, crossing her arms, "Standing here arguing is accomplishing two things, Dib: One, we waste time, two, we show the people watching us just how unplanned this rescue attempt is. This is in bad form."

"I know, but two head are better than one—

"Try telling that to a creature _with_ two heads." she spat back. She turned on her heel abruptly and marched away, leaving a torn Dib. Tak _could_ handle herself and he _knew_ that. She had rubbed it in his face time and time again when she had skirted out of his hands in city after city. He heard her mumble, "Oh no, wait, you _do_ have two heads." then giggle slightly as she walked away.

He was rooted to the spot, torn between two choices. As much as he wanted to _think_ he could go after her and there would be nothing she could do to stop him, he knew infact there was. She could try to kill him. Just like all of her past attempts, she would nearly succeed and he would only survive because he had gotten pretty good at running away. So, it was a toss up between following her and eventually running away like a scared little girl, or walking in the opposite direction like a young man.

Deep down, though, he _really_ wanted to chose the first option. But he _was_ on camera and he _did_ have to consider his pride. So after Tak dissapeared around the corner without so much as a backwards glance, Dib turned around and went the opposite direction, checking every door he could for signs of Zim and Gaz.

Some of them were unlocked. Every time the door swept open Dib felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as if Gaz would be in there, bound and gaged and unconcious, with a price tag tied around her ankle, like a body in a mourge. Like stock for sale. Or maybe he would find her strapped down to the bed, her clothes torn off, and it would not matter if someone had once had their hands on her or not, his imagineation would do the work for him.

"Man, I hope she's all right."

But that was not all. He was not just worried about Gaz, he was absolutely fucking _terrified_ of what was going to happen to Zim. Gaz being sold was almost nothing compared to the horrific uncertainty in Zim's future. He could be taken apart piece by piece, by some matured form of the sadist Dib himself used to be. Awake. Alive. Maybe even with Gaz being forced to watch. If she was sold off? Well, Dib would stop at nothing to get her back. Zim? There might not be a Zim to save.

Where was the dissection lab? Third floor. What if he found Gaz only to have her tell them they never wasted a _second_ taking him there? By the time they made it to the third floor it would be too late and Zim would be too far gone. Then agian, Irkens were a pretty hardy race. He might still be alive. Maybe.

"H-how long could Zim last with his insides spilling to the floor?" Dib shivered. He remembered how he had once, when he was twelve, would have stopped at nothing to cut Zim open and see what made him tick. Now? The prospect horrified him. It was the _last_ thing he wanted to see, even in his own mind, because now it was accompanied by the image of Gaz, cradling the Irken in her arms and sobbing.

And in the back ground he heard the world's leaders bidding top dollar for her.

He tried to push the thought from his mind and keep his head in the game. It was ironic, but if he was too lost in thought, he could be looking for them and miss them completely.

"C-come on, Dib. Focus. Your dad's been murdered. Your sister's been kiddnapped, and her boyfriend went off alone to save her and now _he's _gone, too. And... and... Now _you're_ alone, just _asking_ to be captured. This... This is bad. Really bad. T-tak's out there, too. But I haven't heard her scream yet, so I think she's okay."

"Man, I hope she's still okay. I hope Zim's okay and Gaz is okay... And I hope we can all stay together now. Even if Tak leaves, I can't go after her, Membrane Labs needs me here. _Gaz_ will need me here. I—I'm talking out loud to myself."

And his voice echoed down the hallway, as if to ask, _myself?_

Who was he talking to, really?

"Well, it's not Dad that I'm talking to." He hissed to himself. He could talk, but not so loudly. It made him a walking, talking target of crazy. It was never Dad.

It was a bad time to think about it, but he had never really had _anyone_ to talk too.

"Okay, that's bullshit, Dib, and you know it. You've had Gaz. She's never really opened up to you, but she's been there to tell you to man up. That's what she would say right now and that's why you're here. She's your sister and she loves you."

He loved Tak, too. He would not actually go so far as to say he loved _Zim,_ but there was some strong bond between the two. He just hoped their story would not end here, least of all Tak's. She had other things. She had that kid she met in Orissa, and _he_ had met that kid, too. That Alu had been the _one_ thing that had kept Tak from killing him.

"I don't see why she has to snap at me when ever I ask about him."

And she had. She had that morning. And he had done as she wanted and had avoided bring him up. But he was alone now, and he needed a distraction. A big distraction. Mute kids seemed to be the thing to do it.

"Said he wasn't mine to ask about." he grumbed. Now that he was thinking about that kid, he felt a little better, "Well, he's not exactly _hers_, either. He _could_ have parents for all she knows. Live ones. Then again, if they actually _cared_ they would not leave him begging outside of a teashop every day."

Funny how Tak could be so furiously opposed to the idea of discussing a human child she had taken under her wing. Some times he wondered if she even thought about him at all, until he asked, then she bit his head off. Like maternal instinct was just something she could switch on and off.

Hey, maybe it was?

He opened another door. Again, a bolt of fear. Again, nothing. He stood there for a moment, wondering how many doors he would search until he found them. Or until he himself was found. Maybe if he just surrendered they would take him to his sister.

Someone's foot was suddenly jammed between his shoulderblades and he was pitched forward in the darkness, his forehead and hands hitting the opposite wall. He hardly heard the barred door slamming for the terrible ringing in his ears. But he knew it had happened, because there was a faint click of a lock that he _did_ hear. Then he heard laughter. He threw himself at the metal bars and tried vainly to open it, but the wooden door slammed shut soon after that, who ever had trapped him in had moved quick and hidden. There was an aweful, hot pain in his fingers as they were jammed between wood and bars, and over his own howl of pain he heard a faint, sadistic chuckle.

Then he heard Tak screaming.

He turned around, as if he could stare through the darkness and help her, "Tak!" he turned again, pounding his still-aching hands against the wood, sometimes he hit the metal and it hurt like hell but he could not bring himself to stop, "Let me out of here! Let me go!"

They just laughed again, "You"re no better than the creatures we've captured before. Even _they_ begged for mercy."

Dib barely heard it. Even if Tak had stopped shrieking, he could still hear her. He could hear Gaz crying for help and Zim groaning and screaming in pain and he could hear an eletric saw cutting through flesh and bone. He threw himself against the door and hardly even noticed when his arm snapped.

"You're putting up at bit more of a fight, though. I can respect that."

Why was it getting hard to breath? Over the sounds in his head, Dib could not actually hear the gas being pumped into the room. Nothing that would kill him, just enough to make him swagger and lose his fight.

"I can respect that in a _human_ at least."

"What... what do you know... about being _human?_"

The noise stopped then, and the world _would_ have spiraled into nothingness if Dib was not already lost in pitch black. His eyes fluttered for a moment, then his knees gave way under him.

_So you noticed._

* * *

And so, one by one, they all gradually got captured. With no one left to save them, how will our heros get out of this terrible situation?

Can the Peanut Gallery guess the correct answer in time to save our heros?

Can I find a way to milk this story a wee bit longer?

Find out next time!


	20. Chapter 20

Meta-Morphine

(Disclaimed.)

* * *

Chapter twenty: The world is your chessboard.

"Good, you're awake."

Tak groaned and forced herself to become aware of the situation. That was Dib who spoke. She could smell Zim and Gaz, too. She managed a rough, "Regrettably." before she let her head roll upwards so she could look around. Her hands were cuffed behind her, her arms threaded through the bars on the back of the chair, keeping her from just up and standing. Her ankles were strapped to the legs, too, so she could not freely kick. She turned her head to see that Dib was tied up the same away, and assumed the other two were in the same situation, "What happened?"

"I just remember fainting, you must have gotten knocked out."

"What about the other two?"

"Hit me in the back of the head with by own crowbar." Zim answered, "Gaz won't wake up."

"Where is GIR?"

"Not sure." Zim answered. "They opened the door and he must have run away, I was only barely aware of the situation, so I couldn't stop him. The must have desided he was not worth the trouble."

For something to do, Tak tried squirming free. No luck. She tried picking the lock of her cuffs with a PAK leg, but a sudden shock ran from metal to metal, and down her spine, causing her entire body to pitch voilently for a few seconds. Dib gasped in shock as her shoulders were nearly dislocated by the force.

"Zim already tried that! Don't be stupid!"

"Okay." Tak said, looking around now, they were in the smaller meeting on the first floor. She could hear voices from the larger conference room, "So, we're being sold?"

"They are. I don't know about you and I."

"So, no word on our insides getting examined anytime soon?"

"No."

She tried quirming free again, but still accomplished nothing aside from knocking her chair alittle askew, so she was almost looking at the door leading to the larger conference room. Okay, how had she managed that? Just a little side sweep of her hips, pitching her knees to the side. _Try again. Okay. Now you can blast the next person who walks in to ash._

Maybe she could saw through the chair... Where was the saw?

"Zim?"

"If your looking for tools in your PAK, they've been moved."

"Where?"

"Good question."

"FUCK!" Tak exclaimed, jerking her wrists vainly and throwing her shoulders back, trying to snap the back of the chair with brute force alone. The world reeled backwards. "No!"

Then she was staring at the ceiling and seeing stars. Her arms were not broken (but from this angle she could see that Dib's was) at least, and she had that to be thankful for, but now she was even more useless than before. Well, at least she had not knocked all of the others over, too. She sighed in frustration, "So, our communicators are gone, too?"

"No, you can't call Mimi. I can't call GIR. With any luck, they've found each other and are trying to find us, but they can't. The tracking device has been removed, too, so I don't know _where_ they will wind up. And even then, we aren't lucky. So GIR's probably looking for the surface on the bottom floor—"

"Come on, Zim, we're lucky we still _have_ our PAKS."

"Our luck ran out there." Dib cut in, "We did not think to tell Tak's ship to come in after us."

"That would have been smart." she turned her eyes from Dib to Gaz, who's head was covered by Zim's shirt and rolling to the side. She was wearing Zim's sweatervest, and nothing else, as if her clothes had been taken. Why? Tak may never know. She was not even sure she _wanted_ to know. At least, she would not go out of her way to ask. But why was her face covered? "Curiosity, what's up with her?"

"The light." Zim said, "Some sort of transformation, now she can't stand it. I was in the middle of testing when—"

If the _technopath_ was not uncontious, all forms of electricity would be under their control. Even the hand cuffs. They must have something making damn sure she stayed asleep. Rather rudely, Tak reached out a PAK leg and jabbed her shin (it was all she could reach). Zim had been in the middle of explaining that electrotherapy negated the change for a while, in proportion to higher voltages, but he had not wanted to risk killing her.

"So when we return I might— Hey! HEY! Stop touching my girlfriend's leg!"

"Interest lost. Plan forming. Take your shirt off her head."

"What?"

"Light means pain, right? Lights are on here, she feels pain, she'll wake up."

"No!"

"Do it or I'll shove this were it _really_ should not be shoved."

Dib exclaimed in discust. Tak kept her eyes steelly and hoped Zim did not pick up on her bluff. Fact was, Tak could not actually _reach_ anything above Gaz's knee, so she was going to attempt to tickle her foot with it if worst came to worst and Zim refused to help. She _doubted_ she could actually wake the purple-haired human up with just a tickle, but she desided it would be worth a shot.

"Okay!" Zim said, rolling his eyes (but only she could tell, because she was the only other Irken in the room), "Fine, you win, but she does not wake up, we cover her up again."

"Agreed."

Two metal legs extended and the hand-like extentions gripped the collar. Quickly, he pulled the shirt back just far enough to reveal Gaz's now blackened face. Tak was _actually_ repulsed for a moment, because the human girl's eyes were closed, and covered with the same darkness, so it appeared to be just Gaz, her nose and mouth and chin, no eyes. The the blackness began to hiss and smolder, like hot tar, but with out the aweful smell. Her mouth twitched, serpent-like locks of hair began to reached out, as if examineing the surroundings.

They pulled the shirt back down.

Fuming, Tak pricked the sole of her foot.

Nothing.

With a heavy sigh she let her head fall back and the leg of her PAK retreated, "If she would wake up, she _might_ be able to get these cuffs off. I can't get a good look at them, but if they have an electric current, they might fall under her control."

"Actually, these cuffs are just rubber lined and hooked to a wire that is taped to a small electric generator under the chair—"

"Okay, okay, she would short out the generator, then." Tak grumbled, "_Then_ she would contact my ship—"

"Gaz has never done anything like that before." Zim said, "You're can't expect her too."

"Well, a girl can dream, can't she?"

"Fine, fine." Zim muttered, "Go on."

"While Zim and I freed ourselves, then you two. I can't believe they left us alone."

"They did because they _know_ we can't escape." Dib told her, "I told you, Darkbootie—"

This time, she _and_ Zim laughed.

"—Knows what he is doing. Each agent here is equipped with a regular gun, _and_ a water gun."

They abruptly stopped. Dib hung his head in shame, "He remembered what I told him about Irkens, and he figured out that's what the two of you are."

"It's not hopeless." Tak insisted, "We _can_ do this."

She had other people to live for, after all. For once, she thought of Alu and worried, but she stopped at once, because now was the time to focus. Now was the time to switch _off_ love and _focus._ She tried snapping the legs her ankles were bound to. If the generator was taped to the chair, she could free her leg and kick it, breaking it and hopefully making the cuffs useless. Why could she not snap the chair leg?

She extened the legs of her PAK again and tried pulling up on the wood with them while her shin pulled down. No luck.

"Zim." she said over her effort, "If I can't get free, and if they wake up Gaz for any reason, we each use or PAK legs to cage her in. She'll short the generators while we do. It's a stretch, but if they play right into our hands, it might work."

"Okay."

Then the door from the conference room swung open and they heard foot steps. Zim and Dib turned. Tak cursed herself and _wished_ gravity had not decided to give her a bearhug. Her own legs and the seat of her chair were blocking her view. She heard _three_ sets of feet, though. One belonged to a old man, the other belonged to the one that had attacked her in the hallway (she could smell her) the other belonged to a man.

"Tunaghost."

"I-I'm sorry about your father, Mothman. We... The order was—"

"Don't feed me any crap about the orders. Look what he created. He deserved to die."

"Says you! You are no better than Gaz is!" Zim shot back, "Even if she is, as you say, a demon, she has more humanity than you. What do you think you are? A cleric? Take off that copper cross before I rip your eyes out with it!"

The 'cleric' it seemed, just smirked and planted a boot on the edge of her chair between her knees. He pushed her into a sitting position again, taking his foot away before her forehead rammed into his knee. He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face up.

"Touch her and I'll kill you." Dib said quickly.

"Oh fuck you, Dib!" Tak shouted, "Touch me and _I'll_ kill you! Slowly. I'll tear your legs off! I'll gouge out your eyes and rip out your fingernails _one-by-one._ When I get through with you you FILTHY HYUMAN, you will be wishing you had thrown yourself _whole and alive _into the gaping maw of hell itself!"

"Oh, really? It seems to me I already have."

Then legs of her PAK shot out and fromed a square infront of her, the kind of square that was normally accompanied by a blast of energy so powerful it desentigrated _everything_ in its path. Tak smirked. This guy was bad news and she knew it. She could smell it on him. He had done a million bad things and if she did not kill him, he would do a million more.

Like grab two of her spider's legs and pin them to the floor, so deep they were _stuck_ and she was once again completely useless. Reduced to squirming and cursing, she did just that, raising as much of a fuss as she could because if anything the noise would wake up Gaz or the uproar would buy time. Time for what? Tak had no clue. Eventually, the blonde man grew tired of smirking triumphantly, and yanked Zim's tie from his pocket and gaged her with it.

_Damn_ that man! [1.]

And damn Zim's sturdy ties! Were this human silk, her teeth would have cut through it in one or two bites. Zim's ties were too precious to him, it seemed, to cut corners. No, it was made of the same nearly indestructable fibers every other thing he owned was. Still, she kept trying to gnaw through it, despite the look of mild distress. He seemed to realize fairly quickly, that it was only a matter of a single tie, and he had more important things to worry about. "What is going on here? I demand an explanation."

"No."

"Tunaghost, please!" Dib cried out, "Why would you do something like this? If you wanted to use my sisters powers for good, then I would have arranged something, by this? This is just monetary gain, isn't it? Why would you do something like that? Just because you _can_?"

"It's nothing personal, Dib." she said, "It's just that... The organization believes... Mankind needs a little push in the right direction."

"Don't you agree the world needs changing?" The old man asked, "Dib, you always wanted to be a hero, now is you chance. You're going to go out there, and you're going to get sold, just like all of those creatures agents have brought in over the years. You're going to change the world."

"We're _going_ to have a dictator!"

"That's why we're splitting you up."

"What?"

"That's right. Think of it like a game of chess, but its more than just black and white. You and your sister? The last two pawns to be placed on the chessboard."

"How could you _do_ something like that? You're pitting me against my own sister!"

"Mrhs mfing mmmvl." Tak tried to force out through Zim's tie, _That's fucking evil._

"And what of Tak and I? What will become of us?" the other Irken asked, "Will you keep us for science?"

"No, no. Why would I break up something so beauti—"

"So I'm just an added perk?" he hissed, "I'm just part of the deal. I'm leverage. Same for Tak, too?"

"That's right."

"Bastards. I would rather be _dead_ than be used to manipulate Gaz!"

"I'm so sorry!" Tunaghost whispered, "I-I'm so sorry, Dib."

_Don't I get a say in this?_ Tak wanted to scream_, Come on, the two females involved in this situation don't get a vote? Come on, fate? What do you mean to say? You're a huge bitch, fate. You're a huge bitch._

But all that came out was a series of muffled mewls and groans.

"So now." Dib hissed, "It's just a matter of who goes first."

"And who goes to the highest bidder, who goes to the _second highest._"

"What do you mean?"

"More money, more power." Zim said flatly, "More technology. A better country to take a technopath."

"So you're saying I go—"

"—But I don't think the advertized for the over protective _brother_ of a technopath. They're here for Gaz, you're second rate."

"Gee, thanks."

How Tak wished she could speak. As things stood currently, she could only crane her neck and look from one to the other, and either nod and shake her head as the debate went on. And really, all they seemed to be doing was skirting the subject. Beating the bush. Biding time. Waiting? Waiting for what?

With one final, violent gnash of her teeth, she felt half of the gag fall away.

"I don't even get why they would sell Dib. He doesn't _have_ powers. I-I mean, he _had_ them, but they were only given to him by the—"

The blonde that had pinned her spider legs down laced her antenna between his four fingers, so that little finger and index were on top, middle and ring were on the bottom. It was a light touch, so she barely felt it, but it was from that evil-seeming human, so it was enough to send a shiver down her spine and make her shut up.

"Keep talking."

"—M-meekrob?"

"Let's prove her wrong, shall we?"

"What are you planning?"

Tak heard the grating metal of a switchblade being opened with a human's teeth. She felt the razor blade against her antenna's base. She tightened her hands and put on her best pokerface. So, he was going to cut off her antennae? Well, she would not be the _first_ Irken that happened too. She would probably not be the last. The pain would be blinding, for a second, but then it would be replaced by a dull throb. Her senses would essentially cut in half, but that was nothing. Maybe he would cut off both, but all that would mean was that she would be unable to hear. Everything else would be human. Normal.

"D-don't hurt her."

The metal bit down into her antenna a bit, but it made no further advance. Before she asked what was going on, she felt it moving up, and there was a searing pain as the individual hairs were shaved off. She bit down to avoid screaming, her eyes aglow with pain she was _not_ going to show. They must have dealt with alien's antennae before, _that_ was how this one knew cutting the hairs would be _just_ as painful — _more_ painful — than the entire stem, and would not leave the victim deaf.

It seemed to be getting more of a reaction out of _Zim_ than Dib, though. His PAK legs were trying to pull the human away from her, but he was just out of reach. With a little chuckle, he swatted them away, as if they were as pesky as an insect. Tak reminded herself through the pain that _she_ still had two metal legs left, and _she_ could reach him.

Presentation was the key. She screamed as loud as she could to cover the sound of clicking metal as the legs snaked through the back of the chair, one on either side of him. It was pure guess work, really, because the only way she could see would be a reflection.

_Dib's glasses!_

As much as she wanted to avoid looking in the eye, she had to. Remembering to display her pain, she only opened one eye and quieted her screams, searching for the reflection in Dib's glasses, she could see it, but barely. He kept moving, though, struggling to get away. Strange, how could he put up so much fight with a broken arm? Had it healed so quickly? Unlikely.

Focus.

He... Some how _changing_. It seemed like light was spilling out of his eyes. He seemed to be getting stronger. She even heard the wood holding him back splintering. He stopped begging and started _snarling_, noises for _lower_ than a human, even. It seemed to trigger a fearful reaction in Zim, and his PAK legs stopped trying to fight the agent holding her antenna and wrap around Gaz to protect her.

When she was certain the two legs were poised to puncure _something_, she turned her head away again, still screaming, to look at the woman, Agent Tunaghost, as Dib had called her. She gave her a pleading glance, and she turned away. Smirking, she stabbed, the finely tapered points hitting his stomach and a lung. Maybe she grazed his liver. He cried out in pain and dropped the knife, nicking her antenna and cutting down the side of her face, but otherwise leaving her unharmed.

She pulled back and stabbed again, not really sure what she was hitting because she could not see the reflection in Dib's glasses anymore, but she heard the human still screaming, so she kept attacking blindly, until he was too far away to do any real damaged and she caught his shirt with both legs and threw him into the wall.

Bad shit happens when you dare harm an Irken's antennae.

The old man clamped a restraining bolt down on her shoulder, it sent a powerful shock through her system, forcing her PAK legs to retreat. He unlocked her cuffs and pulled her too her feet. Agent Tunaghost did the same for Dib. Looks like that little shenanigan made them first. But now it seemed like Dib was undergoing his own transformation, despite the restraining bolt on his shoulder.

It was a pitty, but the last _fully_ human thing he said was, "This _sucks._"

There was a dead silence and Tak knew the pair of them must made a fearful sight, Dib snarling like some animal and emitting a faint glow, her with green blood dripping from her antenna and from her head. Her back was splattered with human blood, though. Sickening. In a few hours her antennae would stop registering _pain_ and start noticing the aweful smell.

Who ever bought them, the _moment_ she could, she would kill him. Dead. Deader than dead. So dead his dead relatives would rise from the grave and die again.

"That's not the girl you're supposed to be selling."

"What trickery is this?"

"Folks, this is just an appetizer. After _these two_, the _real_ betting begins." the auctioneer said smoothly, "Something to get rid of pocket change."

She was _certain_ he was baiting her. She could practically _see_ the useless trinket she was supposed to attack. She was _familiar _with slave auctions, she was supposed to show she had fight, to sweeten the deal. She knew they could see Dib glowing.

How the hell were they going to get out of this? She had been up shit creek before, even with out a paddle. The current had always carried her away to better waters before, but she was pretty certain she was heading to _shit rapids_ at this point. In a leaking raft. This was bad. This was really bad. The actioneer was prattleing on and she remembered why she hated auctions, she could barely understand auctioneers, but now time was painfully slow and she was forced to understand him.

"DoIhearaseventhousand. Seventhousand. Seventyonehundred. Sevenytwo seventytwo. Seventethree. Sevenyfour. Seventhousandfivehundred. Six—six hundred."

Evidently, the Ambasador from France was going to take the pace into her own hands. She looked beffuddled and confused and unsure of how to place a bid so fast-pased. "Eight thousand american dollars!"

"Eight thousand?" Tak exclaimed, "Such a low price! You win and I'll tear your head from your shoulders!"

"It talks!"

"It? Oh, I'll—"

She did not want to point fingers or name nationalities, but it was an _arab_ that laughed and said, "I'll be damn sure to get my money's worth! Ten thousand!"

"Vone million." That was a smartly-dress blonde, persumably French by her accent. She was wearing a lavender suit with a white blouse, and a rope of pearls around her neck. There was a light purple fan strapped to her wrist, which Tak found herself focusing on. Who used _fans_ really? And that was a _Flamenco dancer's_ fan, made for constant wear and tear.

"One million two thousand." That was a proxy for the British crown.

"Vone point five million."

All she could really do was struggle against the restraining bolt digging into her shoulder. She snapped a claw trying but it would not budge.

"I'll buy us myself, two million!" Tak exclaimed.

The auctioneer turned to her with a little smirk as he pressed a button on the podium, sending a shock through both her bolt and Dibs, so powerful they both colasped. Not out cold, just down on their knees, hissing in pain. He laughed. He must _enjoy_ doing that. The fiend!

"Two point five million."

"Two point six million."

"Three Million." Exclaimed Miss France, standing up and slamming her hand down.

"France does not have that kind of money!"

She turned to The Queen's proxy and slapped her fan down into her other hand, "Ve have zaved it up for zee... rainy day, oui?" and before he could retort, she shouted, "Three million five thousand."

"Four million." the arab was on his feet now.

"Four and a half million."

"I can do this all day. Five million."

"F-five five and a half."

"Six million."

"How about five and nine thousand?"

"I am _insulted_!" Tak exclaimed, "I have more in a _bank account in sweden then you two have put together_!"

"Zerty million—"

"Now you're talking! I have _no idea what you said_, but its better."

"This is war! Fifty million."

The Frenchwoman said coyly, "Challenge accepted, Seventy million—Ninety million— Vone hundred fifty million."

With that she opened her fan and hid a glowing smirk, daring anyonen to top that price. Tak found herself focusing on it again. It was painted wood, a peacock, with _real gold_ shimmering in the eyes on the feathers. She could scarely believe it, she had the same fan _herself_, it was _supposed_ to be one of a kind, but maybe from this distance, it just looked the same.

The Arab srtaightened up and adjusted his robes, "Two hundren million."

She snapped the fan closed and glared at him, nearly breaking it in two, but she looked at Tak and seemed to compose herself and said just as evenly, "_Three hundred million._"

"Four hundred million."

The French Ambassador frowned and stepped back, eventually stitting down, "Forfeit."

It was the Arab that had won. Tak hissed and snared at him, making it very clear that he would _not_ get his money's worth. He smelt of a million human purfumes and spices. It was covering up his _real_ scent so Tak had trouble believing he was actually real. That, and he was covered completely, even in the heat of New Mexico. Why? Just to look exotic and imposing? He stood up and offered Tak his chair, which she refused to take. He extended his hand (covered completely by fabric, as if he were a lepur) and forced her to sit, whispering, "Don't worry, everything is going to be alright."

* * *

[1.] His name is (was, I'm fairly sure he's dead now) Agent Holywater. Age, twenty four. His powers are similar to Dib's, but actually stem from witchcraft. He sports a cross but (presumably) made a deal with the devil for his abilities. He's about as clever as a snake and as indestuctable as a roach. He does not like strangers and has a habit of jumping right into the fray. His late partner, Agent Quicksilver, was much more reserved and tactically minded.

What could he _possibly_ mean? What could _possibly_ happen?

Who out there wants to kill me right now? Be honest.


	21. Chapter 21

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

Invader Cakez said: "we're all going to die."

Nidia. Ceylon said: "no more deaths, I hope for explosions!"

Suicidal-Insomniac said: "undercover Irkens."

I hope you're happy.

* * *

Chapter twenty one: And the wheels keep on turning.

Gaz woke up to shouting. She panicked for a moment, raising her hands to find that the first thing she touched was Zim's arm. She could barely see the chaos at the table before her for his embrace. Her face was bruied in his chest, and from the mild pain on her scalp she assumed it was becasue his shirt had been taken away and she was exposed to the light again. Yes, even the one eye she could see out of, it ached to keep it open.

"Zim?"

"I'm terribly sorry about this, Gaz, but it appears we are going to France."

"What?"

"We're being sold." he said, "Your brother and Tak... Here."

Sheilding her face from the light, he turned her so that she was looking at Tak and Dib. He appeared to be near a faint, chained up and seated against the wall, his eyes barely focused and... and blacked out? Her eyes burned, and she yelped and turned away, following the chain to a man shrouded entirely in red and black fabrics. His hand was even covered, but it was clamped down on Tak's shoulder, and she was seated in front of him, frozen in place. Her eyes were wide and fearful, her hands gripping the bottom of her seat, she was leaning forward, as if poised to run away at the drop of a hat.

And she heard the rabblings of an auctioneer.

Gaz's jaw literally dropped as she looked from one face to the other. These were foregin dignitaries! These people would normally be giving her father money, attending the unveiling of his latest inventions as honored guests and benefactors. They were his funding. His supporters. When her father had needed supplies, they had sent them. Money was haded over freely in exchange for results.

And now they were bidding for his daughter? Did they even know? Did they even recognize her? Had they _no shame?_

The were up in the high millions now, but it was going so fast she could hardly comprehend it. Hands were raising and droping just as quickly. The world was gathered, bidding for her. Why did she feel so terrified? Now was the time she should be overcome with stone-cold truth. There was _no escape._ Even if they _had_ managed to get away, someone would just come after them again, right? Now? What would happen now? "So— So this is it then?"

Her nails were digging into Zim's arm, but he did not seem to notice. He just kept stroking her hair.

"No matter what happens, Zim will not leave you. But unless some miracle happens, the next time you see your brother—"

"He will be my enemy?" she asked, "I'll be forced to fight him?"

"Yes."

She forced her eyes back to her brother. He was glowing, so it hurt like _hell_ but she managed it. She had not seen him since he had left, and _now_ she was seeing him for the last time and they were being _sold as slaves_. Were was justice? Why was fate a bitch?

"I'd rather die." she whispered to herself, "I would rather die."

"DoIhearasixhundredmillion. sixhundred. sixfifty."

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to listen only to Zim's pounding heart, not the ramblings of the auctioneer. As the numbers climbed higher, her nails dug deeper into his skin. She wanted it to be over. She wanted someone to win the auction so that it would be _over_. The Irken was shaking in fury, and she could hear him growling now that she was more alert. She wished she had remained asleep. She wished she was dead already, so she would not have to endure the shame of being sold.

"Zim? When we're alone, kill me."

"We can always escape—"

"—to be hunted again? Death is the _only_ freedom." Her hands and voice where shaking as she said it, but she _knew_ it was the truth. It was all they could do. Hopefully, Tak and Dib would do the same.

"I understand." He kissed her forehead, "I'll be right behind you."

"Ninehundred. Ninefifity. Goingonce—"

"One trillion of your Earth monies!"

There was a sudden silence as the door swung shut again. Who ever had made such an outrageous claim, Gaz could not see them, but she knew that voice. She _knew_ that voice. Her heart lept into her throat as her mind went into over drive. She tried to remember, but kept drawing a blank. Who ever they were, they seemed to be invisible. She heard quick mincing steps heading towards the table, like small-metal soled boots. She squinted, as if it would do any good. The angle was all wrong, maybe. Who were they?

She heard more metal clicks, and two red, wide-spaced eyes appeared over the edge of the table, then a small little green body. He was being raised by metal spider legs, and he had abandoned his invader's uniform for a slick business suit, complete with pinstriped fedora, with a red pocket square that matched his little tie.

"I'm making you an offer you can't refuse."

"Skoodge?" she exclaimed, "_Invader Skoodge_!'

He passed her a shy glance, as if he could not believe he had been reduced to bidding on a human, let alone the human that 'rightfully belonged' to a former roommate. His face darkened and his eyes flickered down. He said shyly, "... Hey."

"Yeu can't let zee alien bid!" Exclaimed the Ambassador from France.

_"Skoodge_!Buy _and _sell these bastards!" Zim shouted beside her, "Show them how an Irken handles the slave trade!'

"Irken currency means nothing on this planet!" The Presidentman of the United States shouted

"Two trillion." the little drug baron said, "_IN GOLD_!"

"Does Skoodge have that kind of money?"

"I _really_ hope so.'

"Three trillion."

Skoodge stepped back a ways, then marched forward again. He kept his shoulders squared and his eyes steady, despite the tremor in his voice, "F-four. In gold. Do it or I'll get my boys to destroy this place."

Miss France just leaned forward and laid her hands on the table, so that her eyes met with Skoodge's. "Vive trillion, forfeit or I'll turn your little 'boys' over to zee authorities."

"You don't know how. Six."

"Seven."

"Eight."

"There is no way Skoodge has that much in gold. All of his resources combined, maybe. He's selling out for us."

"There is no way _France_ has that much, either. It's just a game of poker now." Gaz whispered back to him, "Unless they've cut a deal with someone else."

"Nine." she said, "I can easily top anything offer yeu make."

The Drug Lord stepped back, his eyes turning down, "F-forfeit."

"No!" Tak and Zim screamed at the same time, "Skoodge!"

"Even if I pulled double, cut payments, I would never be able to get that much together."

"I'll pay you back!" Zim shouted, "Skoodge—"

"SOLD!" The gapple slammed down and a horrible, aweful silence followed. Eyes narrowed. If there were guns and knives around they would be drawn. There would be war in this very room if there could be, but there was just silence. The auctioneer walked past them, straightening his clothes and looking at them as if they were nothing more than just merchandise.

The woman with spiked hair slapped a pair of cuffs around Gaz's wrists and covered her again with Zim's shirt, "I'm so sorry."

"I will destroy you—"

"I deserve it." Then she ran away, slamming the door behind her.

Then there was chaos. Cellphones were out. There was shouting and screaming every language imagineable. War. World War Three. In that very room. Then fists fights. Somewhere in the chaos Skoodge must have been knocked off of the table. She tried to reach out to the phones and make them stop working, but it was too loud. It was too much. She was sold. She was nothing more than an item. It was _official_ now.

Zim helped her to stand and guided her along the wall to their owner.

"Move." her voice was suddenly very blunt and rough, and oddly not-French, "NOW!"

She heard the doors being knocked open and she heard footsteps in the hallway and the noise of the back room retreating. Then she heard Tak screaming curses a few yards behind her.

"Faster, Zi—Alien!" the Frenchwoman shouted.

His shirt was knocked off of her face as he struggled. It seemed that she had a fairly strong grip for a woman. "Tak!" Zim screamed, "Kill him if you have to, but don't let them use Dib!"

"Hell no, we're escaping _now_! Tonight! We're taking Skoodge's ship and we're leaving him here. But we have to _move!"_ Tak said, kicking and scratching at the robes of the Arab, "France!" she spat, "You know, I _hate_ France! Any country that eats _snails_ has got to suck!"

Her new owner slapped her, Gaz saw no hand move, just a flurry of fabric. Judging from the way she pitched, fairly hard. Dib snarled in rage and lunged, but quick manipulation of the chain in the Arab's hand tied him up with it and spun him around, then jerked him forward to fall to his knees. Tak seemed to loose her anger, then, and instead of dissing Paris, she helped Dib to his feet.

"And your accent kept slipping all through that auction!" she said once Dib was standing on his own again, 'And you! You don't even _sound_ arabic!"

"So you're saying we're frauds?"

"Yes." The female Irken said after a length, "Yes, yes I am."

"Shut up and _move_!" the Arab said. Gaz wished she knew _which_ country he was from, so she could hate him properly. They had moved into the dark hallway now, and the six of them were staggering through the darkness to the light of the exit.

"Blast open the door." the Frenchwoman ordered Zim. The legs of his PAK emerged and blasted the ceiling away. She pushed Zim up the ladder first, them shoved Gaz up as well (but Zim actually pulled her out.) She and the other human worked together to get Dib and the struggling Tak out. Zim and Gaz helped, too, unsure of why. They should be struggling. The only reason Tak did not take Dib and run was because his chain was still being held.

Then, in a display of chivalry that was not _normally_ displayed durning wartime, the Arab gave the Frenchwoman a boost out, and she actually pulled him to the surface intead of shoving him down.

"GO!' he barked, hearding them past the storage boxes, "Someone was following. GO!"

They tumbled out into the night, lit only by Dib's glow and the stars.

Someone else tumbled out after them. Someone tiny. Someone in a slick suit.

With an angry scream, Skoodge propelled himself at France's ambassador and the Arab. The woman stepped back, gasping, but the Arab hardly finched. Instead, a two-clawed hand reached up and jerked down the covering over his nose and mouth, Gaz managed to notice he did not actually _have_ a nose. Serrated teeth flashed in the moonlight as he shouted, "STAND DOWN, SOLDIER!"

Skoodge jammed the extra metal apendages in to the ground and came to an abrupt halt, spewing dirt into their eyes. The little drug lord toppled over, tumbling over his own PAK legs and tumbling to the ground between France and Arabia. As quickly as the Arab had uncovered his face, he covered it again, hiding his strange hand in the folds of his robes.

When he with drew it again he had a communicatior in one hand, he said into it, "Seven to beam up."

Then they glowed.

Then they were standing _in the Massive. [1.]_

She was pretty sure they all passed out at the same time.

* * *

Purple knelt down, taking the basic equivient of a tazer out of his PAK and jamming it into Zim's neck. The defect was on his feet at once, his eyes going from him to the still heavily shrouded Red about as fast as a human's strobe light.

"M-my _Tallests_?"

The initial triumph that Red felt upon seeing that Zim was _not_ actually taller than them washed over him and left quickly. "No time! You don't even have time to change into _uniform_, soldier. No one knows more about the humans that you so I need you to get down to engineering and design bomb shelters. I want one for every ten square miles and I want them five minutes ago!"

"What?"

"Engineering. Now. You have lives to save!"

"Y-yes sirs!" He saluted and ran off, accompanied by two other soldiers to engeneering, on the off chance he did not know the way. Purple knelt down and shocked Tak awake in a smiliar manner, she was up then, just as fast.

"Tak, we need you to monitor the earth's population and—"

"Why?"

"We need to know how many people survive the first wave of attacks."

She stared mutely for a while, her eyes blank, and the Tallests watched, intrigued as a look of panic slowly took over her face. Her eyes and skin paled and her breathing slowly rose to a frantic rate, "A-attacks? You have to beam me down again! Sargent, altitude—"

_"No one_ is going to the planet's surface."

"Then where is _he?"_

"Dib? He's righ—"

_"I don't give a damn about that human! I'm talking about the _other_ human! Where is Alu? Where is Mimi?"_

She did not wait for an answer, she ran off in the direction of the flight hanger, Red and Purple close at her heels, leaving Gaz and Dib to lay on the beaming pad for a while. They chased her down the hallways, Red having a bit of difficulty keeping up because of the heavy fabric weighing him down. Really, the first thing he had wanted to do was wash off all of those damn scents. He had not wanted Tak to give the gig up by recognizing him as a fellow Irken. He ripped them off and resumed following.

"Lock down the flight hanger!" Purple shouted into his communicator, "No one gets in. No one gets out."

The hanger door slammed shut just before Tak got to it. She ran strait into it, and she turned around, fixing them with the most insubornidate glare they had ever seen, "Let me go down there! Let me go down _now_!"

"Tak, calm down."

"No!" Tak screamed, "No, the planet's destorying itself and Alu is down there getting blow to bits and I'll never be able to live with myself if he's dead!"

"Tak—"

She jumped back, blasting the door open with her PAK legs and ran through, Red and Purple tripping over each other to stop her. Tak climbed into the first Ring Cutter she came across and initiated the launch sequence.

"Engineering, open the door." Red commanded, "If she rams into it, she'll kill herself, if she starts shooting at it, she'll kill us all. Bridge, prepare to catch a ship off of the starboard side in a tractorbeam. Communications, open a line to Cutter number 206."

Tak was being hailed but she was not answering. Red and Purple watched as she entered the airlock and zoomed off into the void of space, down to Earth. They stared mutely for a moment, unsure of what to do. They watched the tractor beam shoot towards Tak and she quickly evaded with a lighting fast barrel roll, still shooting down to the planet's surface.

"Where are the SIR units?"

"With the rest of her things."

"No humans, though?"

"Um, no?" Purple said, his face wrinkling, "She didn't have one stuffed in her trunk, if that's what you mean. What can we do? Pray to Tallests past she makes it back?"

"Engineering, keep a lock on that ship. Communications, I want visual. What ever the _hell_ she thinks she's doing, I want to _know_."

He closed it again and foated through the wall Tak had demolished. Purple followed him back to the bridge, where a screen in the center of the room showed a telescopic image of the Ring Cutter Tak had stolen heading towards Earth. She was breeching the atmophere now, deploying her heatshields. What ever errand she was running, it was not imparing her ability to fly. She was over Los Angeles, now, racing with a chinese warhead.

"Calculate destination!" Red commanded, "Calculate diameter of nuclear explosion and predict success."

"The north side of the city, sir."

"If this was even_ half_ the capacity of our weapons, even the _radius_ would wipe out the city and the surrounding area. She... I don't think she'll make it, sirs."

"Hit that nuke. I want it to detonate early."

"Sir, this close, you'll risk hitting her."

"She knows what's going to happen when that—"

_"Sirs, this is Inv— Zim. This is Zim reporting in to inform—"_

"— bomb goes off. All of her shields are up. Don't ask questions and do it!—"

"— _you that all shelters have been deployed and are now in use."_

Purple tried to focus on Zim's voice for the chaos around him. There were sirens, lights, any wartime distraction you could imagine. Soldiers were heading to their battle stations even though Red had not given the comand yet. It was the one command he had _yet_ to give it seemed. He was prowling over the bridge, barking one order after the next, and with reports coming in left and right, it was hard for Purple. to focus his attention entirely on Zim. "Good work, soldier.—"

The first shot sent it in a tail spin towards the sea.

_"I SAID HIT THAT BOMB!"_

"— Go to the nearest communications room and—"

The hastily and reluctantly fired second missle hit the nuclear warhead in the side, detonating the uranium and sending Tak off course by several miles. Los Angeles was leveled in a heart beat.

"— contact Ring Cutter 206."

"She's still alive!"

"—Tak's on it—"

"Sir, she's suffered engine damage—"

"—I want her off the planet's surface.—"

_"—Sir, the male human is awake!"_

"—The radiaton is too bad. No one could have survived—"

"Restrain him! Security, red alert! We've got a human—"

"—and she's heading down to get someone."

"—On the loose and I don't—"

_"He's in the airlock!"_

"—Tak's shields are down—"

"— I want the medical shuttle just out side of the radiaton zone. _Now_!"

"— Paris and London have been hit—"

_"__He's_ flying towards the planet's suface with out a ship!"

"— I've got confirmation of a bombing in Cairo."

_"He's breeched the atmosphere on a—"_

"How is he not taking damage?"

_"— a collision course with Spittle Runner 206."_

"Is he trying to help her?" Purple's eyes were glued on the screen, his hands shaking and his breath coming face. They had a dual-telescopic on Dib and Tak. She had landed now, and was walking shakily. It was not like she was injured, it was like the ground was shaking under her, "Give me siesmic readings for the area!"

"Off the chart, Sir!"

"You mean to tell me that bomb—"

_"Sirs, the girl is in the flight hanger. The ship are arming themselves—"_

"— triggered an earthquake?"

"— _heading down to the planet's surface!"_

"What?"

_"She's not even awake!"_

_"—Tak will not respond_." came Zim's voice, "_I—"_

"Zim, get down to the flight hanger and—"

"The metropolian areas are in a state of mass panic—"

"— stop Gaz from wasting all of our ships!"

"—They have not even been hit yet!"

"Tsunami from Los Angeles quake triggered. Calculaing route—"

_"Yes sir!"_

"— Hawaii. Pillipenes. Japan. New Zealand."

"Why are we even struggling so hard to asses—"

"Northern Australia. Smaller islands in the Pacific will be completely underwater."

"— the damage to a planet that is not even ours?"

Dib had landed in front of a crumbling mansion now, Tak had gone inside what seemed like hours ago, and he calmly followed Purple took the telescope into manual control, and tried every angle he could, but aside of the occasional glimmer of light from the super-powered human, he saw nothing. Red continued to bark orders.

"Open communication lines to the shelter computers—"

"—Ships are attacking and disarming nuclear war heads."

"—Take a head count of survivors."

"New missiles firing!"

"I don't understand, the first round of attacks—"

"—I want to know who's alive and how—"

"—should have ended by now."

The house crumbled completely, now. And Purple felt his breath hitch. Tak had never come out. He had watched in intently. She had never come out. He was frozen for a moment, horrified, but light began to shine through the rubble. A wave of reliefe washed over him as Dib freed himself from the rubble. He could see Tak and another figure huddled below him, probably out cold. He gathered them up and placed them in the Ring Cutter. He climbed into the ship himself and initiated the launch sequence.

"Sirs, someone has locked onto us—"

"Give me the signal's origin—"

"— northern United States—"

"— Communication or attack?"

"They think we're a Russian vessel."

"Second lock on. China—"

"Hailing us to signal an attack—"

"War heads from Russia and Spain dissarmed midway—"

"Evasive action! Sheilds up! We don't attack."

"— routes calculated as New York and Tokyo."

The ship pitched, knocking Red into Purple. They tumbled down, Red momentarily prevented from giving order by the shock of finding his forehead rammed into the computer monitor. He pushed himself up quickly and resumed command.

_"American Missile avoided."_ the ships computer said smoothly, despite the shouting around it.

"Dib and Tak and one unidentified taken into medical shuttle—"

"Recall the shuttle! Helmsman, bring her around seventy—"

"Irken ships returning to Massive docking bay."

"—Degrees Port. Warp factor six to Meekrob—"

_"Prepare for another evasive manuver in Five..."_

"—on my command."

"Massive to medical shuttle, standy by—"

_"Four... Three... Two..."_

"— we will catch you in the tractor beam—"

The ship pitched again, but this time everyone was ready for it.

"All ships returned—"

"Medical shuttle to Massive, confirmation. We are now in tractor beam, ready for warp."

"Go!"

* * *

[1.] You are now free to freak out, punch your computer, laugh, or walk away and never read another word of this fic. I will understand.

I wanted to convey the complete _chaos_ that happens in war. So, what I did was write a bunch of legible conversations and mashed them all together. You're supposed to be confused. Don't worry.

Also, we will be going back to weekly updates now. I've drawn up another story arch, but I am currently hiding from Invader Johnny, France, and the entire population of Northern Africa. It is hard to write when you are cowering in your closet.


	22. Chapter 22

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

So, the question you are probably all asking is: "Cheddars, why are you continuing this story?"

The answer is this: I realized (at some point) that staying on Earth was not an option for Dib and Gaz, so I knew pretty quick they would have to get off planet. Well, Irk sure is not on Earth and the whole 'Mothercontrol' thread was never fully woven in, so now I'm re-weaving it in and _no_ I never actually _planned ahead_ for this, which is why so many of you are probably (secretly) expressing confusion and disgust at the arrival of 'Alu' (A Morality Pet AAAAAAAAAH! Kill it! Kill it with fire!) but he was only really supposed to be in the DaTr-midquel.

_Trust me_ you would much rather have him on the Massive than have him dead.

It's been a long ride, but I think I'll stick with Meta-Morphine for a few more chapters.

**Also, I've got a poll open in my profile. You might want to check it out.**

**SERIOUSLY.**

* * *

Chapter twenty-two: Keep Burning.

_ Reactivating._

Zim felt a shock start at his shoulders and course through his body. He gasped a little in shock with the feel, but the world soon came into focus. He was laying on his back in the middle of the flighthanger, a bit of dried blood running from the left side of his head down to a split lip. The vision in his left eye was foggy, but he had suffered similar injuries before, it would heal with time.

"Gaz!" he exclaimed, climbing to his feet. He was a bit unsteady on them, doubtless it had something to do with his head injury, but he felt no pain so he continued searching, "Gaz?"

He heard an hiss that was neither Human nor Irken and turned to the sound. It had come from a tangle of a Voot Cusier and a Spittle Runner. They must have been knocked together when the ship took evasive action. Yes. He remembered now. He had been running towards her and the ship had shaken voilently. There had been an aftershock of a detonating missile several miles away that had caused another pitch in the ship and it had swept him off of his feet.

A hand emerged from under the rubble, with out stopping to notice that it was completely black and red, Zim clasped it for a moment then he pushed the Voot away. A second hand joined it, this one was still human. When Zim pulled her out, he actually took notice of the differences between her arms. One was clawed, covered in the same shadows that had previously only covered her face. There was a red line descending from her right eye and down her right arm, ending at the back of her hand. His shirt was still thrown over her head, but it had begun to slip.

He turned so that his shadow was covering her eyes, "Gaz, say something—"

She raised a hand to her forehead. Her clawed, blackened hand. Zim frowned and helped her out from under the Spittle Runner the rest of the way. She appeared to be fine, and he no longer had a medical snanner to check her for injuries. Her red eyes closed for a moment, and she shook her head to clear it as be pulled it into his lap. He watched her, just glad that she was fine in body, at least, as she drew her hand away from her face, opening her eyes.

She screamed. A terrible shreik that nearly ruptured his skull.

The ship was plunged into darkness.

It came back after two seconds, and Gaz looked like she had recieved the fright of her life. Zim took her wrists to hold her still, and he was fairly certain he held her gaze. He willed her to keep looking at him, because he was probably the only familiar thing that would keep her from freaking out at the moment. He kept his eyes steady and his tone firm, "Gaz, relax."

"O... Okay." Her breathing evened out and her muscles losened. He let go of her wirsts and cradled her face in his hands. One side was completely black, but he did not care. She still sounded like Gaz and she still smelled like Gaz, even if only her mouth, nose and one cheek remained human. Still, how long would it be until she was completely covered in black? Would she even rember him? Would she still be able to talk? Would she still enjoy his touch? "You're hurt."

"I'm fine." he answered, "I just fell and hit my head."

Her hand was changing now. The red line was pulling back and the darkness was retreating. Soon, it just covered her eyes and forehead again. She raised it to look and she smiled with relief, raising her hands to her face to touch human skin, "Call me vain, but I _don't_ like that stuff."

"It's kind of growing on me."

"I wish I could get it to _stop_ growing on me."

"Well played." Zim chuckled, helping her to sit, and then eventually stand. He staggered again, using it as an excuse to slide an arm around her waist. As his hand brushed the skin that was revealed by the hole in the back of his sweatervest, wave after wave of relief washed over him and he found he could not contain himself. He threw his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her too him, at bit to rough, because she yelped as her nose hit his shoulder. He felt hot tears pricking his eyes.

"I'm just glad you're okay."

He was glad _she_ had not been trapped on Earth like so many other nameless souls. So many Earthlings had died and so few Irkens, but from the state of the flight hanger, no one would have guessed that. He could have told her that she had taken ever fightership in the fleet and had dissarmed several nuclear missiles, saving more people than she had killed, but he was too choked up to say anything.

Hell, he was to emotionally distraught to think of how now was a _really_ good time to pick up where they had left off in the SEN headquarters.

"Hey... Zim, what happened in here? Did we get into a little scuffle?"

All she got was an oddly loud sob. He was clinging to her desperately with those words, like if everything were to fall away with in the next few seconds, even if she was no anchor, he would gladly hold on to her and nothing else. She did not remember. She did not remember and it was the best news he had ever heard. She never knew she was a hero and he was glad because if she ever _did_ come to know the terrible destruction that had happened in her wake, she would never be able to live with herself.

"When I fainted..." she said softly, "A while later, I heard Dib calling for help, so I... I got up and followed him. I dreamed I was just stopping bullets for him back on Earth but here I am on the Massive... And I _fainted_ on the Massive, so there is no way I went down to Earth again... Zim, I didn't do this to the flight hanger, did I?"

Sharp as a tack, that one!

Zim forced himself to nod, "It was encredible. You... you piloted all of the ships by yourself... You..."

"... What did I do?"

"You attacked and dissarmed nuclear missiles." he said it quickly to soften the blow, for himself as well as her, and he smoothed it over with a whispered, "Gaz, I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud."

"N-nuclear missiles?" Gaz asked slowly, "How... What happened to Earth? W-where is Dib?"

"I'm not sure. I was too busy following orders to keep up with him."

_Following orders._ He had been so caught up in doing exactly what he had been comanded he had not actually looked out for Dib. Even if it was terrible, he let himself smile, because he had missed being ordered around by his Tallests.

The airlock door opened with a loud thundering boom, and they both turned to the clear screen that kept everything in the airlock from being sucked into the void of space. It was pressured controled, air tight, everything was vacuumed out before the outside door opened, and pumped in again after it closed. Very advanced. Zim had worked on the team that had _designed_ that airlock system.

"What's that?"

"A medical shuttle. They must have sent one out to pick up Tak."

"Tak left the Massive?"

"She went to pick up someone."

"Who?"

The outside door opened now filling the vacuum with air again, allowing standby medical teams to flood the airlock. It looked rather beat up, sorched and battered, which really just proved how violent it had gotten, even out the outskirts of the atmosphere. He kept Gaz from seeing what was going on by nonchalantly turning her away from the medical teams that were unloading Tak, Dib —

Wait, Dib?

Completely forgetting that he was trying to shelter her, Zim let her go and ran forward and slipped under the glass door as it rose up. He had never actually been a doctor, but he did have medical knowledge. "Is there anything I can do?"

But no one was listening. He looked at Tak, expecting to see horrible burns and blood, maybe even exposed bone, but he did not. She looked like nothing had happened. He looked back at Dib, who was laying there, his eyes open but unseeing, Zim had no idea how he had even _gotten_ to Earth's surface, because he had been in communications before he had been in the flight hanger, and there was no other ship that had mobileized before Gaz armed the entire fleet. Even with powers, he would have suffered _something_, either in the atmosphere or in the void.

Either Irken medical techniques had advanced a great deal in the last six years, or something strange had happened. The only one who appeared to be damaged was a second human (Zim assumed he was the cause of this trouble) who was only a little singed.

"What do you mean 'they're fine'?" A standby doctor asked, "They just got fried, and you tell me, 'they're fine'?"

"I—I mean just that." said the doctor from the shuttle team, "They're not awake, but they are stable and unhurt."

"Radiation damage?"

"Healed."

"In two minutes?"

'Yes."

"Nonsense, doctor."

"You don't have to tell _me_ that, doctor."

Zim was following them through the wrecked flight hanger now, and he felt out of place. It was oddly peaceful compared to the chaos he had just been engulfed in. They walked through the mess as if it were nothing. Gaz frowned at him, and he assumed she was raising an eyebrow. Her facial expression were hard to read when she was covered by darkness.

"Why aren't they _running_?"

"I think your brother has healing powers."

"How did that jerkass wind up with healing powers?"

"The same way a sweet girl like you was born with the ability to disarm nuclear weapons."

"Point taken." she said flatly. She tugged his shirt fully over her eyes, but fortunately the Massive's hallways were dark, she did not now seem to be in any pain. She circled an arm around his waist so that he could guide her and teased lightly, "Now that you have a second, you should think about getting another shirt."

Zim frowned. All of his other shirts were back on earth in the base, with Minimoose, but they might all be ashes by now. Was the doomsday toy surviving the barrage of radiation that was surely plagueing the world at this very moment. Zim wished suddenly he had brought him along, he might be with them, like GIR...

Wait, where _was_ GIR? Zim stopped moving for a moment as he realized that GIR was no where around. He had not beamed aboard the ship with them, and Zim had not seen him. Of course, _no one_ had time to tell him where GIR was, so he _might_ be aboard the Massive. He resumed following the medical team. GIR could survive a nuclear apocalypse, Zim knew this. He was made of metal and so far as he knew metal was a lot better than flesh at surviving radiation. So, the base was alright, the robo parents would be okay.

He just would not be there, and that was what he was worried about. Would GIR keep looking for him, or would he know that he was gone and head back to the base? Zim shook his head to clear it and held Gaz tighter to him. He would never know, there was no point in worrying.

"What's wrong, Zim—"

"GIR and Minimoose... I don't think they're here."

"Well, nothing too horrible happened, right?" Gaz asked, "I-I mean, we can still go down to Earth and get them?"

"Gaz..." he started, but he stopped himself, he could not tell her there was no earth to go back to. He could not tell that there might not be a GIR or a base or a Minimoose or a High Skool or even no Membrane labs. No after what they had been through.

But at the same time, he had to. He had too because there was no other way and nothing else to do. She could not go though the universe thinking that she would go home to find it as vibrant and alive as the day she had left it, only to discover later that it was not. She would hate him for ever. Besides, _someone_ had to tell her, it might as well be him, he would break it too her gently.

"Gaz dearest, that is not actually an option anymore, the Earth, it was pretty much obliterated. Life on the surface—"

"So World War Three really did happen?" she asked, her voice was suddenly small and she began to shake again, "And it was because of my brother and me?"

"No." Zim told her firmly, He tilted her chin up so she could look at him, "No, humans are just stupid creatures."

But he knew, deep down, that the entire _universe_ would fight for the power to sabotage each other's technology, and it would only a matter of time until Gaz was asking him to kill her again. As much as he begged the spirits of Tallests past for it not to come to pass, he knew they were helpless against the harsh, cruel reality. It had nearly killed him to hear her ask him, _'Zim, when we're alone, kill me." _and what had twisted the knife was the fact he knew she was _right_. There was no escape in life, only in death. Otherwise, the entire universe would end up like Earth.

There was a room in sickbay that had been altered to suit humans, the beds were longer and he could smell water in the pipes instead of the cleansing mist found in the rest of the Massive's plumbing. Zim frowned, it was like they were _planning_ to get Dib and Gaz, it was like they had spent everything altering the Massive _just_ for the mission to Earth. Why would they do that?

Gaz stepped free of his arms and blindly made her way to her brother's side. She reached out to touch his hand hesitantly, as if she was afraid of the light coming from his skin, when she found it did not hurt her (or, at least, when she found it did not hurt her _too much_) she took the chair Zim had offered her and sat down, her fingers laced with his.

"He's alright, isn't he?"

"With the radiaton he has been exposed to, one would think he would be dead. He _is_ only a human, after all. But it appears that the powers your brother possesses _neutralizes_ all forms of radiation. At least, it reverses their negative effects so quickly it hardly matters. Really, we should all be wearing protective clothing, but—"

"I just asked for a yes or no." Gaz said, turning towards the doctor. No one could see the expression on her face because her eyes were covered by the collar of his shirt. Zim could tell by the tone in her voice that her emotions were conflicting. She had finally gotten a second to relax. She was safe for the moment and she wanted _answers_ not _explinations._ She wanted to mourn her father and she wanted to cry in peace. She wanted to be _positive_ Dib was going to be all right on his own, "You can shut up now."

"O-Of course, Miss Gaz."

Then, shockingly he_ bowed_. Irkens did _not_ bow. Not even when they were begging forgiveness from the Tallests themselves! It put Zim on edge, and he could not exactly tell _why_. Still, he put his arm around Gaz's shoulders and looked towards Tak, she looked to be fine as well.

"There really isn't anything either one of you can—"

"Can't she stay here, just for a little while?" Zim asked, "He's her brother after all and she is _human_."

"If she wants. I will inform the Tallest that she is here."

"What? Why?"

"They wanted to speak with her on the bridge, but they are willing to meet her here, if that is what she wants."

Zim could not believe what he was hearing. Not only had they saved her, but they were treating _her_ with more respect than they regarded their own kind. They _did_ have something planned! Of course, anyone could have seen it coming from a mile away, it took _sixth months_ to get to Earth from Irk, and Irk's resourses were _not_ conducive to long treks across the galaxy. They _had_ to have had some reason for putting what little remained of their wealth into a journey to Earth. What was it?

Mothercontrol?

Of course! He had told them what Tak had said about Gaz's powers, they must have thought is was good enough to try. Maybe they had studied up on the matter and had disovered that Mothercontrol's malfunction had coincided with Gaz's arrival on Dirt. He had both hands on her shoulders now, gripping tightly as if the Tallests might try to rip her from his cold, de-activated hands.

"She is in no condition to see anyone." Zim said calmly, "Her father has been killed. Her brother just _nearly_ died and it was only fifteen minutes ago that she was being sold into _slavery_. Give her a second to catch up with time!" Her other hand reached up to hold his and he calmed down at once, "If... If she needs a moment."

She just nodded. The doctors filed respectfully out of of the room, leaving the two of them alone with their thoughts and the bodies of their friends. He let go of her shoulder and laid his hand on top of her head, he would stroke her hair if his shirt was not in the way. He could always dim the lights but that would involve stepping away from her. The black trendils began to wrap around his arm and waist, he supposed most people would be horrified by that though, but he found it oddly relaxing, "How are you feeling?"

"You know me so well, Zim. It's creepy."

"Zim does not like all this haste, either. Things happened so fast."

"GIR and Minimoose are still down there..."

"... Yes."

"It's a nuclear wasteland, isn't it?"

He did not want to answer, but whether she had powers or not, the tone in her voice _forced_ him to. It was part depressed, part angry, she was _daring_ him not to answer. He swallowed hard and forced himself to say, "I believe so. But I—I modified an Irken shelter design to fit humans. They are large enough to fit and support several hundred people and distributed around the planet. It took me a while, but anyone who survived the initial waves of bombs and could make it, probably did. They'll have medical treatment, a food supply, anything they could possibly need."

"Six—six years ago, a tragedy like this would have been your dream. Now... Now its happened and you tried to help."

"It was all I could do. But I... I caught a glipse of the surface in the communications room. You... You could _see_ the bombings from space. I— I heard radio hosts when I was trying to open a chanel to Tak's ship. They— some of them were blown up mid sentence. I... I'm a _soldier_, Gaz, and I was terrified."

"But you kept working anyway." She mumbled, "Thank you."

"Hey, you saved my planet. What kind of lifemate would I be if I did not do the same?"

They were silent for a minute, she reached up to rub the tears from her eyes, "It's been... It's been one day..."

One day? Had it really? Yes, a day and then some, about twenty eight to thirty hours. So much had happened! It was interesting to see that the Earth really had not been able to last very long with out Professor Membrane. He really _did_ hold the world in his hands. But he was dead. He was dead so quickly. Snuffed out with no warning, like a candle, leaving only darkness.

"It's hard to believe its been tha—"

"Dad never got buried." Gaz said coldly, "Dad'll _never_ get buried."

It was hard to believe Professor Membrane was dead. But Zim knew he was, becuase it was impossible to forget. He was just glad he had died by a shot to the chest instead of being burned to nothing in an instant or suffering the effects of radiation. Maybe he could have gotten some warning, and maybe he had some shelter somewhere that most of their hometown could have gotten in, or maybe he had some way of raising a radiation-proof dome over their city and _if only he had been alive_ their home would still be standing.

But he was dead.

He was dead, and Zim had never felt so alone in his life. The Professor had tried countless times to reach out to him, he had tried to be the relation humans called _Father,_ not only to his own children but to Zim as well. It had repulsed him, but _now_ he felt like such an ungrateful bastard. Maybe — _Tallests!_ This was a horrible thought! — if Zim had taken his offer to work in Membrane labs sooner, he would have been trusted with the secrets regarding Gaz and Dib's creation, and he could have been there to protect him.

He would never be dead. The planet would still be inhabitable. Maybe not _perfect,_ but inhabitable.

"He'll just lay there — _rotting —_ like every other war casualty." She hissed, "The dead remain unbruied while the living go underground to survive. How -How is... How is that right?"

He saw a black tear fall to her thigh and she slumped over in the chair, letting go of his hand and Dib's to cover her face. Zim stepped away from her for just a moment to pull up a second chair and wrap his arms around her. She silently cried as he ran his hands over his sweatervest to the exposed circle between her shoulder blades. He nestled between her cheek and his shirt, kissing the corner of her mouth,

"I'm sorry." Zim whispered, "But no matter _what_ happens I will not leave you."

"I thought Dad wasn't going to die anytime soon."

She was only lashing out at him because she was hurt. Zim could hear the tears moistening and cracking her voice. It was subtle, but a the rhythm picked up her shoulders were shaking in his arms. He felt a tear drip down into his cheekbone, it hissed and bubbled as it hit his skin but he honestly did not care. He had gotten used to water's sting.

"I will not _willingly_ leave you." he ammended, "And I probably won't have too."

She hissed, trying to push him away, "I can't believe that."

"I'll miss him, too."

"What will we do now?"

_That _was an excellent question. Zim pulled away from her, letting the tips of his fingers tilt her chin up just a little ways. The tears were falling like black ink from down her face, and with a gloved hand, he wiped them away. More took their place, though. He had dealt with this feeling this knowlege that they had nothing. Nothing but his own sadness, and even _then_ he had GIR and Minimoose to pull him from the brink of dispair. Not anymore. They were parcets and fathoms behind. They were long gone. They might not even exist any more.

"We'll find a way." he said comfortingly, "The Tallests have a plan for us, why else would they come to Earth to get you?"

She frowned, she knew it was true, "Do you have any idea what they could want? You think it has something to do with..." She lifted up a lock of black hair, as if it were something evil. Like a snake. She grimaced, "I _hope_ this stops soon. I don't like it. It's too creepy. Even for _me_. And that's saying something—"

He would have opened his mouth to say something devilishly romantic like: "I think it is kinky" but he descided against it. Her lower lip began to tremble again and she opened her fingers, as if to drop her snake-like hair, but it just kept floating, which only seemed to cause her more distress, "— He never told me what I was. I—I mean, I knew I was an experiment, but _you_ told me that! I never... He never told me..."

"That does not mean he did not try. I knew your father. He was a smart man, but he did not have your courage."

"But he must have known—"

"Gaz if he had told me about _this_, I don't think I would have told you. I never imagined you could what you did a few minutes ago. Okay, drawing GIR and Minimoose and the computer to you, understandable, maybe you manipulated a cellphone or two. I see now those were just abilities of untrained power. Maybe your father never knew it would get this bad."

She was silent, her hands folded in her lap. Zim let his own hands fall. She was in no mood, and he could not blame her. After a while she said softly, "I wish GIR and Minimoose were here. They could cheer us up."

He just nodded, too lost in thought. _Had_ Professor Membrane known about this particular side of Gaz? Had this been deliberate? He was running through every conversation they had, but each time the older human had mentioned Gaz's powers like they were nothing, like they were _natural_ and like Dib was the one to worry about. What if these powers of hers had not been put there on purpose? What if he had been killed while he himself was struggling for the answers?

The thought _horrified_ Zim. It scared him because he _knew_ what it was like to not know the nature of your own experiments. And now, they were just as baffled as the wizest man he knew, and the only one with the answers was _dead_.

"He... he tried to tell me about Mom so many times in that past months." she confessed, reaching blindly for his hand, "I... I was too scared to listen. What if this was why? What if I always knew I had these powers? What if they came from her? What was my mother?"

But he was not listening as fully as he should. He could not deny her powers anymore. Not now that the evidence was glaring him right in the face. She had reprogrammed Mothercontrol and the Tallests probably wanted her to fix it. Their arrival on Earth, though in the nic of time, had been no accident.

But if she fixed Mothercontrol, his emotions would stop. What would happen to them?

* * *

YES, GIR and Minimoose ARE on the ship, I just never got a chance to bring them up.

So until we meet again next... when ever.

IF YOU KILL ME YOU WILL NOT KNOW HOW THE STORY ENDS!


	23. Chapter 23

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

"I thought you said you were only updating once a week?"

_Well, at least its not every other day._

So yeah, about that poll? It seems that Dust is winning by a landslide of all votes. Normally, of course, this means that I would do Dust, but the number of votes? Two.

I don't normally do the whole 'drill sargent' thing, but umm... _Get your ass in gear, soldier! Vote! Vote like you're actually in a democrasy!_

**That poll is open until the end of Meta-Morphine. If I do not recieve a satisfactory number of votes, I will post all the way to the second to last chapter, and it will end on a horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE cliffhanger. AND I WILL _NEVER_ UPDATE!**

**Go. Vote. Now.**

* * *

Chapter twenty three: *I have headdesk'ed*

"Zim, Gaz." They both turned to see Red standing there, he looked over their friends for a moment, then eventually returned his eyes to Gaz, "Purple and I would like a word with you on the bridge."

Gaz frowned, trying to be angry, but she could not manage it. She wiped the tears from her eyes and just nodded. Red frowned at this display, partly upset, partly concerned.

"Yeesh, the Medical Drones were _right,_ you two look horrible. Zim, you want that gash treated?

"No."

"_Sound_ horrible, too." Red grumbled, Gaz heard him moving closer, "You look... Distraught."

Gaz lifted up Zim's shirt a bit so she could see what Red was talking about. He _did_ look terrible. He was pale from blood loss, and it served as a stark contrast against the blood that had run down and dried on the side of his face. His eye were wider than normal, the lines around them drawn thin, giving him the appearance of a wild, crazy, green savage, which was not really helped by the fact that he was not wearing anything from the waist up, aside from his gloves, which were so torn they hardly counted.

"I'm sorry, I've lost a great deal today..." he started, covering his eyes with his hands, "My lab's records—"

"I took the liberty of downloading them into the computer in your cabin personally."

She watched him frown at straiten up, looking at Red. His voice was questioning now, "GIR and Minimoose—"

"—eagerly awaiting your arrival in cabin twenty six, alpha level."

Gaz's heart skipped a beat, but she did not let it show in her face.

Zim asked slowly, "P-professor Membrane?"

"Okay, okay." Red grumbled, sinking down into a third chair on the other side of Dib, it was difficult for him in the robotic suit, but he managed, "That? That I can't help you with. We can't bring back the dead, Zim." At the downcast looks on their faces, he added quickly, "But he _is_ with the undertaker right now. We're keeping him for a little while, until Gaz and her brother deside how they want to pay their respects."

Gaz stood up. She could not say anything, but she could tell by the expression on Red's face that her little display was enough. He got the message.

"That... That was really kind of you, Red." Zim got up as well with a little grunt of effort. He rubbed the back of his neck and moved his arm, as if to test in for injuries.

"I did it becuase it was logical." he said stiffly, "She's going to be with us for a while and I knew if she never got to bury her father she would make a point of bringing it up every chance she got. Also, Zim, you are coming to work for us, and I knew you needed your records. It is all in the science bay, along with everything we thought to grab from Professor Membrane's lab, too, for his children's comfort and use."

"Maybe he has the answers?"

"He does." the Tallest said, he fished around in the rings of his suit and pulled out an envelope, sealed and adressed. He held it out across the bed to Gaz, who hastily took it and held it to her heart. When she was _certain_ it was real, she drew it away again, "I found it on his lab desk. I don't know what's in it, but it _probably_ has some explination."

He stood up again, "Anyway, I can't talk to you while the side of Zim's head is paying more attention to me than _he_ is." he floated over to the door and said, "Hey, I need a docotor in here, Zim's injured."

"Red?" Gaz asked, walking around Zim to him, "Where are we going?"

"Meekrob. They are the only ones in the galaxy capable to training you. It should take about four of your Earth months, so when you've made yourself at home, contact either me or Purple, and we'll explain everything in a more comfortable setting."

Then he was gone, replaced by a little Irken doctor that had to stand on a chair to treat Zim's head injury. Gaz watched in silence as they dabbed the blood away and spread a numbing solution over the damaged skin, then began to sew him up. Zim did not seem to feel a thing. When the doctor had left and they were alone again, he raised his hand to the stitches and winced slightly. A little bit of green blood had come away on his fingers, he licked them clean and stood up, "Cabin twenty six, alpha level." he said more to himself than to her, "You want to go or stay here?"

"How long do you think it will take him to wake up?"

He looked at Dib, then back at her, "A while. GIR and Minimoose will want to see you."

"I don't want him to wake up and find I'm gone. He'll be worried."

"Then stay!" he told her with a smile, "I'll bring back a change of clothes for you, if I can find one."

"Bring GIR and Minimoose, too."

"Of course!"

Then she was alone. She stood up and dimmed the lights so she would not have to hang around with Zim's shirt over her head any more. Of course, Dib's soft blue glow kept the place plenty lit, but it was dim enough at it was just about as painful as that pins and needles feeling of a numbed leg. Nothing she could not handle.

She sighed and folded her hands between her knees, and realized she was crumpling her father's letter between them. She contemplated opening it, but she looked back at Dib and knew it would not be right to read it with out him. At least, it did not feel right.

Besides, he would probably be up soon, so she would not have to wait very long. Dib did not look like he had been though living hell-on-Earth. He looked fine. Well, _his_ clothes were gone now, too, burned up by the explosion. Apparently, he could not heal fabric, just skin. That made sense, though. The shadows danced over the wall as she stood up and turned around to look at Tak. She was laying on her side (an Irken's PAK may laying on their back uncomfortable) and appeared to be in little to no pain.

"I wish Dad were here... Instead of in the undertaker's office." she grumbled to herself, looking at the letter once more before standing up and setting it down on a table by Dib's bed. She paced for a little while, trying to ignore the changes to her face and hair that stubbornly refused to change back, and her eyes fell on a new face. The third body to be brought in that she had hardly noticed because her eyes had been covered. She strode over to him. He was a distraction. She would take what she could get. "_You!_ You're the one that caused this trouble!"

He did not respond, but that was to be expected. He was asleep. Gaz put her hands on her hips and stared at this new human in the simi-darkness. The light from Dib flickered over his face, which was half in shadow. He was... scruffy looking, which really meant, that if Gaz was presented with the three and asked, 'Which one just survived a nuclear bomb?' she would pick this one. His hair was a mess, but that might have just been the case with him, like how Dib's hair was always in an obnoxious scythe (before he had cut it, but whatever.) He was a little scorched, a little cut up, and about seven years old, perhaps? Maybe eight by now. Black hair. Dark skin. Human, though, there was no doubt about that.

"Odd." Gaz muttered to herself, turning away, "Never would have thought I'd see the day..."

She stopped herself. She never would have thought she would have seen the day when _she_ had caused a war. She never thought she'd have seen the day her Father was murdered, either. She had seen him _maybe_ going out in a lab accident. Maybe natural causes. Her third guess was a plane wreck. So, really, Tak going down to save a seemingly random child was _not_ that out of the question, was it?

Well, yes, but he was only _seemingly_ random. He might actually be there for a very good reason. She walked away again, her hands on her hips, wondering what would happen next, because things had only just started to slow down, she was waiting for some terrible thing to happen again. Like, space pirates to attack the ship, and they would be completely helpless because she had single handed trashed their flight hanger and their defensive ships.

_Way to go, Gaz. Just trash things. Trash a planet. Trash a fleet of ships. Maybe when you land on Meekrob for training you'll accidentally trash that, too_. _And let's not forget the countless times you bitched at your own family. No, no we can't forget every little bitch move you made just because your Father's dead._

_You always _wanted_ them to die._ A little voice inside taunted her, _You always wanted them to dissapear._

"Not like _this!_" she hissed, "And that... that was years ago!"

She could not be reduced to talking to herself. She was not Dib, after all. She sat down at stared at her brother and wished he did not glow, because _damn_ it hurt to look at him. And not like it normally did. Not because he looked like Dad, but because like jerk had the presense of mind to emit light when she was _allergic_ to light. Jerk. She looked, covering her eyes with her hands, because her head hurt horribly now.

There was motion behind her, a rustle of fabric and a light gasp. Gaz rightly assumed it was Tak she turned towards her quickly and said even faster, "Don't worry, you're fine!"

"Oh?" In the pale light Tak looked down at her self to find she was completely free of burns, even if her clothes had been badly damaged, "I—I see you're right. How long have I been asleep? Months?"

"No. I think its been about ten minutes. I don't know. I don't have an acurate internal clock like you or Zim."

"You're screwing with me."

"No. No, it's only been ten minutes."

"But I don't have a scratch on me." Tak insisted, "When I passed out I was covered in third degree burns and... And Alu was... _Alu_?"

Her antennae flickered, as if trying to pick up a scent, and she eventually found it. She threw the covers back and took two steps to the other human's bed side. Intrigued, Gaz turned her chair around so she could watch better. Tak fell to her knees and wrapped one arm around the little human, so his head was resting in the crook of her arm. She pressed her forehead against his and planted a kiss on his cheek. She took his hand in her own and examined it for a moment, as if she could not believe it was still there. Her shoulders started trembling.

Gaz had to stop herself from asking in disbelieve, 'Are you crying?' because she _knew_ the answer was going to be a very sarcastic no. Besides, Tak had emotions too (it was Gaz's fault, right?) and Gaz knew if someone stupidly asked her if _she_ was crying_ she_ would be snarky, too. She watched for a while, until Tak rubbed the tears from her eyes and turned back to her, "His skin was completely burned away. You could clearly see the bones of his right hand. Why is this not the case now? Irkens could never produce a flawless skin graft for a human, or regenerate muscle. How is he still alive?"

"Um..."

Gaz was in a fairly percarious position at the moment. She was _sure_ there was still some bad blood between Dib and Tak and she _knew_ telling Tak Dib's healing powers had brought Alu back from a state of near death was _not_ going fix any problems. It would only make matters worse. But Tak was on her feet now, "Answer me."

Quite stupidly, Gaz slowly pointed behind her, where Dib was still asleep, and glowing, "H-healing powers?"

"You're_ kidding_ me."

"Um... I don't think so." Gaz mumbled, "I'm pretty sure it was Dib, I mean, _you_ can't do things like that, can you? And neither can he, right?"

Tak glared at her as if she was bringing the worst news she could be. She looked over her to Dib, who as still sleeping though all of this. Then she looked down at Alu's hand in hers and she lifted him up, blankets and all, carrying him over to her bed. She wrapped her sheet around her for modesty's sake and laid the child's head on her lap. She stared at nothing particular while she stroked his hair.

So Gaz asked, to take her mind off of death by focusing on _life_, "What's this kid's story?"

"What? He's been there the whole time!"

"I'm serious, Tak."

"I found him in India." Tak answered, "When I was a waitress in a tea shop. It took me about three days to realize he didn't have any parents."

"Oh." Gaz frowned down at her hands. She could relate. She could _really_ relate. Tak leaned back on one hand and continued to fluff Alu's hair, "So you just kept him?"

"Well, I couldn't just _leave him_ there." Tak mumbled, "It was not the _best_ choice I ever made, but it was not the _worst_, at least."

Gaz continued to frown, she looked up at Tak eventually and summed up the courage to ask, "Hey, Tak, if Dad had not been murdered, would you have stayed?"

She twitched, like that struck a nerve, and she echoed, "Dad."

Gaz raised an eyebrow, "You okay?"

"I kind of lost a Father, too." Tak shrugged, "My false one. I didn't really love him, but its still a shame."

"Oh."

"But I'm sure Alu will be hurt when he wakes to find him gone."

"Yes." Gaz was thinking about how much it would hurt for her to wake up and realize the entire _planet _was gone. _And _her dad. Tak seemed to read her mind.

"We'll never tell him the planet has been ruined." she whispered softly in the darkness, "We'll tell him my false father died in the bombing on Los Angeles, but we'll never tell him the _rest _of the planet suffered as well. He'll think this is just another of my crazy adventures."

"Okay."

"He still has Dib, at least. And so do you. And Zim, and me... and I'm not helping, am I?"

"Not exactly."

"Didn't think so." They sat in silence and Tak changed the subject, "Where are we headed?"

"Meekrob." Gaz answered stiffly, "Red thinks they can train Dib and me."

"I'm certain they can."

The door opened then, two SIR units and a stuffed moose came in, the cyan one dived right into her chest, knocking them wind out of her and the Doomsday toy gently landed on her knees, dropping a hairbrush into her lap. GIR had a pair of boots for her.

"Gazzy!"

"I missed you, too."

Following them was Zim. She would have stopped to take in the details of his clothes, but the light was blinding to her, and even then, he was just a shadow in the doorway. The light dissapeared quickly enough and she could see him clearly in semidarkness, "You're in uniform!"

"I'm a defective Irken." Zim answered flatly, handing her a bundle of clothes, folded to his _exact_ standards, "I am on the Massive. I am lucky this is not a prisoner's uniform."

"Ah, he's got a point there, you have to admit." Tak nodded, "Zim, do you have clothes for me? I don't want to hang around in bedsheets more than I have too."

"Of course. Not a uniform though."

"I figured."

He tossed her a second stack of clothes, then set a third down by Dib's bedside.

"Gaz, there's a shower over there if you want to use it. GIR has your things."

He left again, to give Tak privacy to change. Gaz picked up GIR and opened his head. Sure enough, her cosmetics, shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste, "It's like they beamed aboard my entire bedroom. They really did take everything."

"— Except clothes for Alu." Tak mumbled, "I didn't really have time to grab anything. Besides, I thought he was dead."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Gaz replied, walking over to the shower Zim had mentioned earlier, only to find it was a full bathroom. A little cramped, but had towels and water. This far in to space, on a ship with a species that could not _stand_ water, that was enough. Of course, the shadows still dripped off of her and she stained another towel, and she wondered if the plumbing on the Massive could handle it, or if this water was used to cool the engines, so she might have accidentally sabotoaged the ship.

"Oh, they _must_ filter it before it goes there. Otherwise, they'll get soap in the engines."

There was not enough room in the washroom to change comfotably, though. Gaz opened the door a bit, "Tak, I'm coming out there to change, is that okay?"

She scoffed, "I've seen your _brother_ undressed, _you_ can only be an improvement."

Gaz managed to crack a grin as she stepped out into the cool darkness. Tak had resumed sitting there, Alu's head on her lap and Mimi on her shoulders. Gaz started to dress in silence, the feeling of having her own underclothes on again filled her with a strange sense of certainty and peace. When she was pulling on a pair of long stockings, Tak asked, "I wonder when that shadow is going to leave?"

"I don't know, but I can't walk around in the light until its gone, with out something that obscures my vision my head, which is really annoying. Any suggestions on how to get rid of it? We've tried electric shock, heat, water, nothing works."

"Not really." Tak frowned, "Maybe salt, but you can't spare that in deep space. If the _light_ is all that bothers you, you _could_ always borrow my burka, it blocks light, but you _can_ see through it. You're a little short, of course."

"You have a burka?"

"I _did_ traverse the muslim world." Tak replied casually, "It was the law in some places... Nice addition to a cultural collection... Good for avoiding stalkers... Puts in interesting edge on your strip tease."

Her head popped out of her tank top, "_Strip tease_?"

"No comment. It would be overkill, though, the problem is just your face, the rest of you is fine, right?"

She snatched up a fishnet shirt, "Um, yeah, its fine." she answered, pulling it over her head as well. Then she put on a denim skirt and sat down facing Tak to put on her combat boots. She was seated still, taking various ornaments from Mimi's head, mostly a staggering number of gold and darkly-colored bangles, which she piled on her wrists until she could not fit any more and they didn't even _move_ when she did. To keep them in place above her wirsts she slipped on what looked like a very classy blue scrunchie. It was silk. Like everything else.

She did not really _care_ about the shadows anymore. "Where else did you go?"

"Lots of places."

The door opened again, and Zim walked in, "Have you read your father's letter, yet?"

"I was waiting for Dib to get up." Gaz replied, "I think we should find out together."

"You're not in the least bit curious?"

"It's her choice, Tak."

Tak frowned, looked at Gaz, then to Dib, then back to Zim. She said something in Irken and Gaz felt left out, especially when Zim replied in the same language. Tak's frown persisted, and Zim said something else. She shook her head, laughed, and pointed to Alu, then she laughed a little more. When she calmed down, she said to Gaz, "I'm going to get fitted for my uniform now. And I'm taking him with me, that way, even if its only an Irken uniform, he'll have _something_ to wear."

"Are you sure you're fine carrying him?"

"Of course! _Ciaaao._"

Then she shut the door behind herself, leaving them alone with Dib, GIR and Minimoose. The latter came to rest on her head. The cyan SIR unit sat on her lap, while her hands were pressed between her knees, it made her give him a sort of impromtu hung. Not like she really minded so much. She _did_ like GIR, after all. They were silent for a while. A long while. Zim raised his hand to rub her shoulders and he eventually asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Better." but better was a relative term, compared to a few hours ago, she was much better, but _befoer_ her father was murdered? Well, she had a while to go before she was _that_ good again. Zim lightly rubbed her back but did not say a word. Words were useless right now and he knew it. Gaz scooted a little closer to him, unable to stand the darkness or the silence.

She brushed a few new tears from her eyes. She did not want to cry any more. Crying was weak crying was horrible. She swallowed her tears and focused on anger instead. She wanted revenge. Revenge she could not have. "That guy, that killed Dad..."

She wanted to kill him. Deader than dead. As as dead could get. She hated him. It was too bad he was miles away from them across a great void of space.

"Trust me. He's dead." Zim said quickly, "At least, it is _extremely likely_ that he is dead."

"Extremely likely?" Gaz echoed.

He cleared his thoat and shifted his eyes. "Yes. Unfortunately, further study revealed that while the bombing and radiation in Roswell was horrible enough to kill most of the population, anyone still in the SEN headquarters could have survived, but Tak gave him several fatal injuries."

She sighed, "I wished _I _had killed him."

"Well, I wish it had been _me_." Zim grumbled, "His treatment of you was unnacceptable."

There was more silence. He reached out in the semidarkness and took her hand, cradeling it in both of his, weaving his three fingers though her four. They sat there for a while, Gaz wishing that she could step out into the light, or that Dib would wake up or that something would happen, anything.

"And I wish it had been _me_!" GIR insisted from his perch on Gaz's lap.

They both looked down at him, Gaz amused, Zim's expression unreadable, "Why is that, GIR?"

"He hurt you." GIR said plainly, "And he and masta can't _both_ be right."

"What do you mean?"

"He called you a demon. Masta says yous an angel. He knows more than anyone."

Zim facepalmed. [1.] Gaz grinned weakly and passed a sidelong glance at him. He averted his eyes and turned a darker shade of green. After a while, the light silence became heavy again, "I don't like being so depressed." she eventually grumbled.

"You'll be back to yourself in no time." he said with half the confidence he normally had, "You don't have to stay here."

"I know." she replied, "But I want to."

"Understandable." Then they were silent again. Gaz leaned over in the semidarkness and laid her head on his shoulder, she felt his claws combing through her hair and he whispered, "I love you."

* * *

[1.] Who _didn't_ facepalm?

-dude, that was so corny. Even _I_ facepalmed. But its stupidity redeems it, so I kept it.

Short chapter this time. Short and BORING! Oh well. Just so you guys know, this file has spawned a second file titled 'Shit I did not use in Meta-Morphine.' Yeah, I don't know if I'll ever use it. I mean, _some_ of it got back into Meta-Morphine, but it was only one paragraph for every five, so it was taken out of context, and you _might_ beable to point out the re-hashed passages if you _really_ tried. Of course, _everyone_ does stuff like that when they write. When I copy and pasted the original passages into another work? The formatting I used to show myself that I had _already used_ that section? GONE!


	24. Chapter 24

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

* * *

Chapter twenty four: the Professor's Letter

"Dib..." she whispered in the simi darkness below him, weaving her finger through his hair and roughly pulling her too him, "Dib..."

Their lips locked for a moment, and she tore a primal, shuddering moan from the back of his throat as the sharp tip of her long toungue traced a line so hantingly light over his lip. His hands ran in circles over her smooth jade skin, and he broke away from her mouth to leave a trail of kisses down her throat. She kept whimpering his name, coiling her limbs around his body.

"Tak—"

_SPLASH!_

And then she was gone. He was laying on his back in a bed somewhere on the Massive, his hands closing over nothing and his eyes adjusing poorly to semi darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar Irken uniform. It was blue, but he could harly tell in the poor light. He had to close his eyes then, so he could throw his entire being into coughing.

"Why..." he hacked, "Why the f-fuck did you do that Zim?"

No response. Dib turned to his side to see who had thrown water on him, expecting to see a pair of red or purple eyes and green skin. He saw Alu. Holding a still-dripping bucket and wearing a huge grin.

"You?" Dib asked, still coughing, "Okay, not like... you can answer but... Oh! my throat! — Why did you do that?"

He recieved no answer, though, and instead kept coughing for a while, until he could open his eyes and see that there was light. Only, there was darkness, too, like a laptop screen was one somewhere. He turned over to see if someone had IM'ed him, only to nearly roll off the bed and realize that he _was_ the laptop screen. Only he was not. He was actally still himself, he just _glowed_. Because he _was not weird enough already._ He pushed himself up on his elbows, sighing heavily. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, but he now saw that his hands were glowing, too. A strange, serene, pale blue. And he was naked.

His first thought was that he was in a hotel room somewhere and something had gone _horribly_ wrong with glow-in-the-dark body paint and Tak had once _again_ left him. Probably in Vegas, so when he tried to bring it up again she would just say coyly 'What happens in Vegas...' and he would have to complete the sentence on his own time and cut his heart out with a rusty spoon and his _own two hands_. And she had left _Alu_ with him because she was not already sadistic enough. But he knew that was not right. So he shook his head and tried to remember.

And he did.

Then he _really_ wished something _had_ gone horribly wrong with glow-in-the-dark body paint. But it had not. Something had gone horribly wrong on _Earth_. He sat up, gasping, his fingers tightening in his hair, his eyes wide in the darkness. What did he remember? He remembered hearing that Tak had flown down after Alu. He remembered thinking to himself that she would never make it, so he had gone down after her. And... And the bombs had started going off. He had been aware of every movement on the Earth's surface. And... And he had called out to Gaz to help him.

He looked back at Alu, who did not seem to have any cares in the world. He was fine, that meant Tak was fine, too. She had to be.

He remembered finding them, but it had been too late. Their skin had been burned away, almost completely. He covered his eyes with his hands for a moment. He remembered carrying their bodies back, and seeing an Irken medical shuttle, but it was hazy, was it all just a dream? Had he never even gone back to Earth? Had she never left the Massive? No, she must have, else, why was Alu here?

He remembered looking down at her in his arms and seeing that her skin had repaired itself, but had that just been an illusion? A trick his brain had played on his heart to make him sleep soundly? How could she be dead if he was alive?

He demanded, with a little more fire than he meant to, "Where is Tak?"

If Alu was frightened by Dib's outburst, he did not show it. He ran off quickly, though, dropping the bucket. Dib heard his quick footsteps stop and the sound of Tak's voice clearly saying, "If he is not dressed I do not want to see him."

She was alive! Dib scrambled up and started looking around for his clothes. She would refuse to talk to him if he had not showered, either, and he knew it. She was always looking for exuses to spurn him. What ever, he would take what he could get. He eventually found his clothes, and he was already fairly clean thainks to the deluge Alu had gotten him up with, so when he _did_ find the shower, he just took a quick one and dressed with out drying his hair properly. Now that Tak knew he was awake, she was probably itching to leave, debating whether to go or not.

His haste was only helped by the fact that he was his own light sourse. Pretty useful.

With his hair dripping onto his shirt he walked out into sickbay lobby, expecting to see Tak walking away. But she was sitting there, her legs and arms crossed and with Alu sitting beside her, regarding Dib with a wide grin. She was in uniform, with her back strait. She did not look too comfortable, though, the chair she was in was designed for a much smaller Irken.

He literally gaped for a moment. He had expected some scarring. Maybe bandages wrapped around her face, but there was no evidence of her injuries. She looked to be in perfect health. He could not believe it. Her face had been _burned off_, the beatiful jade skin he had desired from childhood had been obliterated and all that was left was sickenly bloodied muscle.

"You... You're really still here? This isn't a dream?"

"Of course it's real! If they were a _dream_ we'd — well, _I'd —_ be all over you."

He laughed. Without another word she got to her feet and walked up to him. He had leared by now what flickers in her eyes were tricks of the light and which were actual movements. She was totally checking him out. He did not let her know he knew this, and instead kept his features smooth, and tried to keep his eyes off of her body. It was impossible, though, considering her body was just _right there_. And, you know, _not burned to a crisp._

She stared at him for a moment, then she seemed to remember that time was passing with out her and she asked, feigning indifference, "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good."

"You... You saved our lives." she mumbled softly, "Thank you, Dib."

Then she looked down at the floor, as if she feared succumbing to overwhelming gratitiude. Dib stepped forward, reaching out for her as if to see if she was really real again, because, _no_ he still could not believe it. With a little gasp, she stepped back, behind the chair Alu was sitting in, holding him in front of her like he was a human shield and he was some wild animal. Alu never stopped that bright grin.

He even hopped out of the chair and hugged him tightly around the waist, Dib said smugly, "Told you he liked me!"

Tak crossed her arms, any gratitude she felt was obliterated by his cheeky additude. "Zim and your sister are in cabin twenty six, on the alpha level. Follow me and I will take you there."

"Okay."

Then her gentle tone returned, she was remembering his father's death, "They have... A letter from your father."

"What?"

"Yes." she nodded, "And when you've read it, The Tallests expect you and your sister preform his last rites."

"But we don't have his body."

"You do." she answered plainly. She peeled Alu off of him and resumed using him as an innocent shield. she laced her fingers though his hair and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him fast to her. "With the undertaker."

"Who got it?"

"Red and Purple did." Tak answered, "Along with several other things from his lab. They have all been put in the science labs and offices for you and your sister to... sort through."

"I don't want to give my Dad's research—"

"Dib, you have nothing left!" Tak exclaimed, quickly covering Alu's ears and dropping her tone, as if he could understand the words they were saying, but Dib still watched him carefully. His smile faltered for a moment. Maybe he could not understand what she was saying, but he knew her tone. He looked at Dib as if to ask him what was wrong, but so long as they kept to languages he did not know, they were fine. He noticed that she was brushing his hair back with a gentle claw, showing Dib a thin row of stitches.

A babblefish implant?

She spoilt him rotten!

_Now Dib,_ a little voice in his head chided_, you're just jealous because you don't have the latest and greatest in language-conversion technology. Also, you're jealous because she constantly holds him like that._

He knew that was true, no matter how the dice fell. Alwayas would be. Maybe he could use it to his andvantage, if, for once, the kid could understand him, maybe he would actually get him to obey him, "Alu, I want to talk to Tak in private for a moment, could you step outside?"

To his shock, Alu started to walk away.

_Yes!_

Until Tak pulled him back and said sharply, "No, Alu, I will come with you, we have kept Zim and Gaz waiting too long."

_Denied._

She guided him over to the door, with Dib following, wishing she would put her other arm around him. He followed behind, his hands in his pockets, unsure if he should be glad his eyes were freely wandering the dip of her waist and her slim black-clad legs or ashamed. She looked nice in her uniform, to say the very least. It was the same dark purple she had worn when he was younger.

He wished, for a breif moment he could go back in time and do _something_ too keep all of this from happening, so that their relationship would not be so horribly rocky. He could not think of anything to say to her. He knew anything he said would be cast down at once. He followed them all the way up to the Alpha level, and fairly close to the Massive's bridge.

He felt like such a huge, lumbering monster compared to all of the Irkens they passed, and from the looks they gave him, they considered him to be a huge, lumbering monster. He sighed. _Right_. the voice reminded him, _You're Dib the Genocidal Maniac, remember? _All of those stares were completely deserved, but they only seemed to look at Tak with the utmost respect. Perhaps it was because she was simply taller now. Dib have a breathless, hesitant laugh, of _course_ that was it.

She only seemed reluctant to accept their respect, though.

"Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine."

Dib frowned, she was lying and he knew it. Tak had lost friends along with the planet. Dance instructors, co-workers and bands. Her hand tightened on Alu's shoulder and she pulled him closer as they turned a corner into what looked like the Alpha-level living quarters. He looked up at her and smiled softly resting his head against her side and wrapping his arms around her.

She opened the door to cabin twenty six by scanning her hand and the three of them walked in. The furniture (and the space) was made to accomodate humans and taller Irkens. Like the room in sickbay, there was a bathroom that used water. There were five people sitting around the table, Zim, Gaz, both of the Tallests, and Skoodge, who appeared to be there solely for emotional support. Dib could not figure out how he had any bearing on the situation.

"—Imagine our shock when we found out she had already been kidnapped. So, we went looking for you to help us, Zim—"

"—and you were gone, too." Red picked up where his partner had left off, "So we tracked your biosignal to Roswell. But we did not find you. We found GIR and Mimi."

"The SIR units had contacted me." Skoodge cut in, "I was in the area, I have a storehouse on Pluto, you see, I was checking up on it. It took me a while to get there, but eventually I did. By the time I had beamed down, the auction had started, and I still needed to contact my men for the gold."

"But _we_ got there well before Skoodge did. We did not even know he was coming."

"Didn't even know he was _alive_." Red grumbled, "So we went back to Tak's ship to see if she still had two extra hologram generators. She only had one, though. And _our_ ship did not have any, it would have taken too long to have one made."

"So he let me take it. He's such a gentlemen!"

"Put a sock in it!" Red joked, giving Purple a light shove, "We waited around for the first people to show up, agreeing that who ever came first, Purple would disguise himself as. Which just so happened to be the woman from France."

"Where did you leave her?"

"Tied up in some broom closet."

"And I left Purple there to knock out the first Arab that came while I went to to ship to have those clothes made. It's good it was cold in there, I would have _died_. As it stands right now, I'm just horribly racist."

"Well, don't feel bad. I just screwed France over. Turns out they _don't_ have the money I bid." Purple chuckled, "And even if we had _not_ been there, their planet still would have—"

"My Tallests!" Tak cut in sharply, her hands flew to Alu's ears. Red and Purple both turned to her, then they looked at the kid and a kind of peaceful reverence came over their faces.

"Tak, Dib, it's good for you to finally make it." Purple said, indicating three empty chairs. Dib reached for one to pull it out for Tak, but Red managed it first. She took it, and let Alu climb into her lap, leaving Dib to sulk in the second to last chair beside his sister, leaving the last chair as a buffer between himself and Tak. He noticed an unopened envelope in the center of the table, which Purple picked up, "Would you like to read it, Dib?"

He stared at his father's last written testament and a gaping void opened up in his chest. His hands were shaking too much at his sides to reach up and take it, and it seemed that black hole had sucked everything out of him. His voice, his breath, his will. He tried to make his hand move, but he could not bare to, like the letter would crumple into nothing should he touch it. All he could do was wish the responsibility did not fall on him because he was the oldest, and say stupidly, "Oh..."

"If you're not ready for it, emotionally anyway, Skoodge has offered. He can read the language of Earthlings. Otherwise, I would do it."

Dib's eyes flickered to the short Irken, who gave him a soft smile and a reassuring nod, standing on the table so that no one had to strain their necks to look at him. Dib nodded in return, the hole in his chest closing up, "Go a head. Please, read it."

Skoodge took the letter from Purple's hand and opened the envelope with a careful PAK leg. He let the envelope fall away and a small sheet of paper tumbled out. Zim's hand shot forward quickly and grabbed it gently. He did not look at it, but instead passed it to Gaz, making sure it was face down in her hand, giving her the option of looking at it or not. She placed her fingers on the white, unlabed back, then held it between her thrumb and forefinger.

Realizing she was waiting for his vote, Dib said quickly, "Turn it."

When she did, Dib first thought it was a picture of Gaz, but he realized that could not be right. Gaz had never had hair that curly, or that long. Nor did she keep it back in a bun. Everything else was identical, though, down to the color of their eyes.

"Dad's eyes were blue." Gaz mumbled, "This must be..."

She choked up for a moment, holding her free hand to her mouth. Dib felt his throat tightening, so it was easy not to say, 'I never knew Dad's eyes were blue.' he turned away from the picture and covered his face with his hands. He had never known the color of his own father's eyes. His eyes could be _red_ and he would never know. Or green. Or black. He never would have known with out Gaz to tell him.

He _never knew_ the color of his Father's eyes!

"I... I wonder what her name was." Gaz forced out beside him.

_I wonder what _Dad's_ name was. _Dib thought to himself.

Gaz continued to stare at the picture, and Skoodge cleared his throat softly, and started reading, "_My Children. I would have adressed this letter as 'Dib and Gaz' but that seemed too impersonal. And yet, would you believe it pained me more to write the word 'children'? Unlikely. I even contemplated using the word 'beloved' but I scratched it out at once. You would have taken it as a blatant lie and an insult, even if it is the truth. As much as I did love you, I was never a good father to you. Was I? No. I wonder, will I make good on my empty vows to myself to be a better parent, or I will I stop myself with the cold reminder that the two of you have already grown up without me? It is too late to even think of being your father again._

"_Or was I ever your Father? No. Never on anything but ceremony. I brought you into this world. I did it on my own. You already suspect it, deep down, don't you? You know you're just clones, you think you're just experiments, but to me, you are so much more. You always will be. Both of you. You are my crowning acheivement, and even if you've both made some mistakes, and even if you've both done things I'd rather sweep under the rug, I am proud of you._

"_By the time you recieve this letter, I am most likely no longer with you, because I would never have the courage to hand it over in my lifetime. How did it happen? A lab accident? A car wreak? A plane crash? Was I murdered, do you even know by whom, I wonder? Have I taken one of you with me? Will we meet your mother in the afterlife? I hope not. How would I explain everything to her? She never knew about you, you know. Never._

"I_ know at this point you are probably asking yourselves why I had to leave you so suddenly, and I know now more than ever you need me. Is Zim still there? Has Tak come back? I hope all of you will continue to look after each other. Never let go of each other again. Don't let a day pass by when you don't remember how much you need and love each other. It is much better to look like a fool for confessing love than to live with this intense regret. I regretted never being there, throwing myself into my work, and so I continued to throw myself into it, causing a never ending cycle that I pray you never fall victim too._

"_I have a horrible confession for you. One night a year was not all I could spare. It was all I could stand. I could not bare to look at you, knowing that I had failed not in your creation, but in your upbringing. One would assume, that as a scientist I would know more about the consequences of my actions and aftereffects of my projects—"_

Dib heard a hiccupping sob. He had been staring at his hands, but he looked up to see that Zim had his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. Then Dib became aware of the tears falling down his own cheeks, and he noticed that Gaz had curled up in her chair, her legs held against her chest, her eyes hidden by her knees. Her entire body was shaking, as if fighting back tears. Everyone else, though they looked distressed, was largely unmoved. Skoodge stopped for a moment to let them catch up with themselves, and he even asked, conserned, "Should I stop for now?"

"N-no." Zim muttered, "Memories. Just, memories."

Skoodge's eyes turned to Dib, who could not say yes but he nodded. Gaz made a muffled noise and nodded behind her knees, too. Skoodge nodded and held the letter up again, "—_but I did not, and you two suffered for it. I wasn't too young. I knew the responsibilities of being a parent, but... I don't know. But this is not the first time I was baffled. I had the funding. I had the genetic material I needed. I had the labs and the equipment. You were more than just a simple gambit to rocket me to my fame, though, I promise you._

"_If I could give up the notoriety and just have you, I know that would be good enough._

"_Have you discovered your powers fully, yet? You're probably asking each other, yourselves, anyone who will listen to your rablings, 'What am I? How did I get these abilities? Why did Dad never say anything?' I'll tell you now, everything I remember, even if my hand siezes up and my heart begs me not to._

"_There should be a photograph inclosed in this letter. Her name is Vivaine Moonscar, you must have already figured out, she is your mother. We met in college, I don't remember which year, because I can't remember the days with out her. I had never lived a memorable day before I met her. My life was nothing. My life was pointless. She was like no one I had ever met before in my life. She was impulsive, she was daring and brilliant. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me._

"_My childhood had not been a bright one. Its something I tried to distance myself from. I don't even know if my own father is still living, if he is, never let him near you. Don't give him the satisfaction. Don't show him the mercy. Maybe it is inhumane, but he... It's not a past I enjoy speaking of. Your grandfather only ever cared about one person. Himself. I suppose, in away, I was afraid I would treat the two of you like he treated me. I see now that was a stupid fear. I'm sorry._

"_But Vivaine, she took every bad memory I had and she spun it into a web, just so she could tear it down. She showed me that I did not have to be my father, that I did not have to make the same mistakes. That I could be the repressed child I had always been, and still be respected as an adult. She did so many wonderful things for me. I only wish she could have done the same for the two of you._

"_I still remember the night I found out about her powers, just as clearly as I remember the days each of you were created and born. It was our first New Years Eve together, she had gotten so drunk it was embarassing even for me (I really hope you didn't inherit her poor alcohol tolerence) Fortunately, we were alone. I had taken the chanpagne and put it away in the cupboard, thinking she was too inebriated to walk and get it herself. I turned around, coffee in hand, to find it was _floating across the room_! I confronted her about it, and she explained everything with out a second though._

_ "Her powers were standard in her family. The ability to make objects levatate with her mind. The ability to see the future. Useful tricks for a gypsy. I asked her several times where she thought her relatives might be, but she repeatedly told me she did not know. They were wanderers. Roamers. They sent her letters saying where they had been, but by the time she had revieved them, she knew they had moved. She could only recieve letters, never write them._

_ "Your mother... could see the future._

_ "She foresaw a lot of things, I realize now, she might have even forseen her own death... I know she saw mine. It came to her in a dream, and she woke up screaming. She tried to tell me several times, but each time I stopped her. If it was as horrific as she implied, I prefered never to know. She told me once not to have children, at least, never with her, they would either be very horrible or very wonderful. I had assumed she was kidding, only time will tell if I should have listened._

_ "Did she tell me not to have you, becasue it would mean my death? Perhaps so. Have I been reunited with her in the afterlife? I was never a religious man, but I pray it is so._

_ "We were going to get married after she got her degree. A week before the graduation ceremony, we revieved a letter from her family, saying that they would be staying not to far from the city, so that she could join them after she walked the stage. She concocted a crazy wonderful scheme to get them to come to town for our graduation and wedding, but she told me she had to go get them alone. I begged her to let me come with her, but she refused. I once threatened to _force_ myself along with her._

_ "She left the apartment at midnight._

_ "She appeared in the morgue three days latter._

_ "I was devastated. I don't even know how I managed to pull though finals, but somehow, I did, even if the accomplishment felt like nothing compared to the empty life ahead of me. I had nothing to go on for, I had nothing to live for. I was an empty shell once more, trying to find a meaning to anything, even science had lost its stable appeal._

_ "I did all I could do. I cut a piece of her hair off and kept it with me for years, knowing that cloning would eventually pick up, thinkthing that I could even be at the forefront. I took her necklace, the only one she had, the one Gaz wears still, to this day. I tried to find her family and tell them what happened to her, but when I came to the town they said they would be staying in, they had vanished with out a trace. The only clues I had were the necklace and their powers, but what respectable tracking agency would look for the Moonscar family, when the only clues to their identity are supernatural powers and the emblem of the skull? I knew it was a futile search._"

Dib looked up again. Gaz was holding the necklace tightly in one hand. He found himself bluring out, "I met them! It was in... It was in Morocco... And now..."

"... And now they're dead, too." Gaz finished for him. There was silence in the wake of that statement, until she said, "Skoodge, could you stop reading for a little while, please?" She reached up with one had and rubbed tears from her eyes, a bit of the shadows came away, too. She just sat there, small and alone and shaking. She had never known a family she just found out had probably died, a horrible death-by-fire.

It was worse for Dib. He had _met_ family he had never known he had. Cousins and an uncle and a grandmother. His mother's family. No wonder she had compared him to her lost daughter. He was their own relative and no one had ever known it. "She had said her daughter had been forced out of the group becasue she chose and outsider over them. They never knew she had died. It was probably because she was too busy—"

He could not finish that sentence. She was torn between the joy of a new family and the loss of the old one. She had been so hurt by it it had impared her driving ability. A deer had run infront of the car. She had swerved to avoid it, and it had turned the car over. Dib blinked back tears. He did not know how he had known that. It was just a series of pictures in his mind.

* * *

By the time _Gaz_ told Skoodge to stop reading? Yeah, my eyes were so teared up I could not even see the screen (Yes, yes, I'm a pansy, shut up.) How many of you cried? Felt a little tightness in the throat? A little tug at the heatstrings? Wasted a box of tissues?

*****So, to relieve some of that tension, you might want to go to my page and check out three other works that I've started, **_**Red Alert**_**, **_**Playlist**_** and **_**Artistic Endeavor. **_**All of them are directly related to Meta-Morphine, one of them is random, two of them are the promised mid-quels.**.. and... um... in the 'restricted section.'** AND WHILE YOUR THERE, VOTE! Except the five of you that already have.*****


	25. Chapter 25

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed)

I'm sick of writing mourning, if you can believe that! I should make something happen, but I don't know what.

Also, I think I should write an alternate timeline in which Vivaine lives. Of course, if she did, Zim would show up and Dib probably wouldn't care, or maybe he would. He would bully Zim, and Viv would immediately appologise and start mothering Zim. And Zim would not know what to make of it. Let's face it, ladies, we all want to mother Zim. At least. I do. I suffer from some kind of Mothergoose complex. I'm certain of it.

And that was probably the most interesting paragraph you will read the entire update.

* * *

Chapter twenty five: By the numbers

Dib walked out, brushing tears from his eyes. Tak watched him, feeling a little stab at her own heart. She stood up, gently lowering Alu to the floor, she kissed the top of his head lightly, "I'll be right back, my sweet." She left him there (he was in capable hands. Eight of them, infact.) and followed Dib into the hallway.

She did not bother asking if he was alright, because she knew the answer to that question. Of course he was not alright. He stopped, sensing she was following him, Tak inwardly smirked, she knew him to a fault, it seemed. He would always take the bait, particularly if the bait was her. They had reached the far end of the residence hallway, and were both facing a clear window that opened into the stars sailing by. She folded her hands in front of her and came to stand beside him.

She could tell by the noise he made (not quite a whimper, not quite a groan, either) that he was tortured just by having her stand there. He shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched, like he always did when he was trying to avoid touching her, and said darkly, "Why are you here?"

"I can tell you _enjoy_ the thought of my presence."

"I really wish you couldn't sometimes, you know." he said, but he did relax and lean against the wall, eventually sitting down so he was sitting, huddled against the window. Tak stared at him for a moment, he looked so strange, but at least the light had retreated to his hands. His eyes were no longer solid black, and had gone back to their normal state, a sweet amber. He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked back up at her.

The puppydog eyes were a complete accident. She was almost positive of it.

She sat down beside him, draping an arm around his shoulders and letting her other hand come to rest with his, so they tangled awkwardly before him. She was intoxicated by his scent again, and felt herself leaning closer to him, so that she could feel all of the warmth she could that radiated from his neck to her face. His hands tighened under her fingers, clenching into fists.

"Let me go!"

"A thousand times I must have said that to you!" Tak replied softly, "You never once listened!"

He was silent for a while, and eventually he closed her free hand in his and brought it to his lips. He planted a light kiss on her knuckles that she felt everywhere, and eventually he held her hand agianst his chest, while hooking his other arms around her waist.

"Every one we knew." She muttered, "Everyone we knew is dead."

Her _dance instructors_ were all dead. Some of the finest dancers she had ever seen were dead. Gurus, masters, the best friends she had ever had. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep back the tears as she thought of how each one of them must have died filled with fear and dispair, or were still dying of the radiation with no one to help them. Maybe some of them had made it into Zim's shelters, but she seriously doubted that was the case with each and every one of them.

Alu would have been dead, but Dib had saved him. Tak tried to avoid reminding herself of that, becuase she did not really want an excuse to be indebted to him, but his daring rescue had certainly proved his loyalty. She trembled a bit as she remembered the horrible sight. He had fallen where he had knelt, playing marbles in the huge foryer of the mansion. Alone. Just like he was used to playing. Her false father had been looking on, intrigued and proud, and the butler had stood on, cold and official.

First had come the spray of glass, cutting their skin. Then the rush of heat that had burned. They were far enough away from the detonation that it had only had the power to do that. It left the muscle exposed, the clothes took the heat for the skin, sometimes, so the hands and face were scorched down to the bone. She had fallen to her knees, cradled him in her arms, wept even though she knew moving would have been better.

Then the fire started. Not even she could explain that. Maybe it was electrical. Maybe it was a kitchen fire. Maybe the Gods were pulling her chain. She had given up, let it consume her. She had let the burning house collaspe onto of her. If Dib had never come for her, she would have let herself die. Of course, if Dib had not come for her anyway, it would mean her life really was not worth living.

There was still a chance, there was still a way to make it work.

"Tak."

"Yes?"

"You can't leave me, too. Tak, you can't leave me.'

"Oh, what could I possibly do?" she asked dryly, masking her sorrow, "Take an escape pod? Dib, you have me for four months. Let's face it, I'm stuck on this ship. And you are too—"

"I really do want to make this work. I... I want to make us work."

"We're all we've got." Tak admitted, "I know."

"Everyone we knew..."

"Señora..." Tak jerked her hand from his and covered her mouth, bitting down on her finger to keep from sobbing. Her first teacher had been a thought at the back of her mind. A promise never kept. She closed her eyes and found herself scooting closer to him, throwing her other arm around him. "I... I said I would go back... I never got to..."

"If I had not reminded you about Zim's radiator, you would have."

"But then we would have all died, too."

"Maybe not. Maybe someone would have come to pick us up. Then, maybe she could have come with us, too. Of course, I don't think she'd enjoy space."

"I doubt it."

"You know she didn't like me."

"That was one of the reasons I liked her the most. She told you to fuck off."

They were silent for a moment, huddled there in the hallway, letting their pitiful human emotions sweep them away, and eventually Dib leaned back and asked softly, "I'm part of an endangered species now, aren't I?"

"I suppose so."

"Gretchen's dead..." Dib muttered to the ceiling, "I... I should have gone on at least _one _date with her. Zita... Keef... Sarah... Melvin... They're all gone. They all died thinking I was guilty of murdering Dad... They never knew I was innocent."

"I'm sorry."

"They all died thinking I flipped out after you left. I'm sure some weird rumor started."

"I am certain Zim would not stand for any rumors to spread about you. At least, not too long. He put a stop to them—"

"And even if he didn't..." Dib hissed, "No one's around to spread them _now_."

He sounded like he had never been more hurt to discover that everyone he had ever doubted him was either dead or slowly fading due to radiation. This was the town that, for the most part, and spurned him and his genious. Perhaps it was his essentially well meaning but perpetually misunderstood nature that kept him from reveling in their demise. Of course, it could also be a genuine sign of maturity. Tak uncurled an arm from his chest to wipe a tear from her eye.

Señora was dead! The woman that had taken her in when she had nothing and had given her lessons for free. When Tak closed her eyes she could still recal the feeling of her teacher pulling a dress tight around her narrow waist, commenting, _'I'll say one thing in your favor, you've got the figure for it.'_ as she plucked a pin from a cusion on her wrist and marked the dress to be taken in another inch or two. She remembered with a slight grin her first real performance, then frowned when she remembered the stage she had danced on was probably gone now.

All of the places she had seen, they were gone. The dance studio she had taken classes in on the edge of France (really, it was in Montmarte, but no one was getting particular). The beach they had met the gypsies... Dib's extended family!.. on was still there, but the waves would wear away the sand and no human would walk along their shores again. The little tea shop Alu had haunted may still be standing, but it was probably reduced to a skeleton. The brothel she had been forced into in Bangkok was probably gone too, but that was in all likely hood a huge favor paid to the rest of the world. Unless, of course, it was still standing because fate deemed it more important than anything else.

At best, everything was a mere skeleton, too, perhaps with skeleton people still hanging around, trapped in one position. Did they even know what hit them? Was the entire planet haunted? When would they realize they were dead?

She shivered at the thought.

What monuments had survived? The pyramids? China's wall? The Taj? Her memories, maybe a few photographs that were stashed away in her luggage, may be the only records of the Earth's diverse culture really left. How many humans had really survived? That was a question that had yet to be answered. How many of them had time to bring music with them? Would it still be there when they emerged to the surface again?

Dib and Gaz had no one.

And he had never looked to nausiatingly pathetic.

"I want to make this work."

She wanted to make it work, too, but she would be damned if she ever said so out loud. Yes, the very fact that it was _her_ out here, not one of the others, pretty much proved that she _did_ care about him in some degree, and _no_ she could not write it off as just some 'thing.' That was not possible. Dib had proven too smart for that. She sighed and continued to let her head rest on his shoulder. His free hand stroked her face.

He was too smart for that. Of course, he was too nice to stop putting up with her stupidity. And, yes, she _had _done some pretty cruel and stupid things, but, at least they had seen the world _before_ it was demolished. She may have stabbed his back and broken his heart, but she had given him the chance (or the excuse) to travel the world around him. Now, it was still there, yes, but it wasn't really worth it, was it?

She frowed. Yes, she wanted to make this work too. Dib's three key relationships were the only physical comforts he had left.

"I didn't mean to leave you... That last time... But—but I had left Alu sleeping in a tent and I knew he would be scared when he woke up and found I was gone, that he would think I'd abanonded him. I thought you'd be used to my running off."

"I was." He muttered, "That just made it hurt worse, if you can believe that."

"Oh, you're such an idiot, I think I can."

He managed a weak smile.

"Let's go back now." Tak mumbled, drawing away from him and trying to pull him to his feet. He let his hand slide out of hers and shook his head, staring out at the stars.

"I would have killed these people in cold blood six years ago. I considered them less than human. Now? They've saved my life as my own kind destroyed themselves."

"I'm sure they have some selfish reason for it. Everyone does." Tak told him, smiling through the tears. He frowned at the floor for a moment, then shrugged and let her help him stand. She let go of him at once, and stepped back letting her fingers fall out of his and her eyes fall to the floor too. She felt better now that she had told him the truth. Well, part of it at least. she also was not interested in being there for the morning after or any such related activity. She had been terrified. Horrfied. Blisteringly so.

"As long as a selfish reason is matched with a good intention, I think its okay." Dib smiled softly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, ignoring her subtle que to stand off. She looked up at him for a moment, preparing to step a way. Not like she had anything to shy away for, of course. His hands were burning her through the fabric of her uniform. Yes, she wanted it to work, but not so quickly.

There was a noise beside them, and Tak let out a breath she was unaware she had been holding. Zim and Gaz came out of their cabin, his arm around her shoulders. The Tallests behind them, and Skoodge walking before the group, Membrane Seniors' note was still in his hand. "We've discussed it." Gaz said, she reached up from under the collar of Zim's shirt and wiped a tear from her eye, "I want to see to Dad's funeral now."

"Alright."

The Sir units, Minimose, and Alu joined their prosession down to the undertaker all falling into the group where they should. Mimi at her shoulders, Alu by her side, GIR just infront of Zim and Gaz and Minimoose resting in the human girl's arms.

Despite the situation, Tak was impressed to see that, for once, the morgue on the Massive was getting some use. Irkens did not die frequently. On occasion they did, when their bodies could no longer bear the burden of living, or when some horrible malfuncion gripped their PAK with deadly accuracy and irriversible effects, or perhaps when they sustained wounds so terrible they could not heal quuickly enough. It happened, few and far between, but it happened.

"Hey, what's the Irken custom, exactly?"

"When an Irken dies." Tak explained, "Their PAK is removed, and they are burned. We don't know where this tradition comes from, but some believe it dates back to a simpler time, when we were a race bound to our planet. The ashes would be scattered, but now, we just keep then in storage until the time comes to return to Irk, where the ashes are thrown into the sun. It used to be in a nice, peaceful place, but there is no such location on Irk. The process is overseen by the ones the Irken was closest too, the closest they had to friends. Their PAK is melted down to be reused, their personality chip is kept and hung, with the rest of our race, in a sanctuary back on Irk."

"Dad doesn't have a personality chip."

"Well, no, of course not. I'm sure you'll be given the option of keeping his ashes or scattering them."

She passed him a glance, and he seemed to be thinking, then he looked at his sister, "Gaz?"

"I'd kind of like to keep them, really." Gaz muttered a head of them.

"Good." Dib replied, "I'd like that, too."

They continued on in silence to the inside of the ship, down past the labs and to the lower sections of medical, where a few doctors were waiting with Professor Membrane's body, covered with a white sheet completely. Tak doubted it really _was_ Membrane Senior for a moment, but she knew no Irken was that tall, and even though he was dead he still bore the same scent.

"He said once or twice he wanted to be cremated." Gaz's speach had become mechanical. She sat down in the chair Zim offered and stared blankly at the sheet-covered form before them. It was cold in the cremation furnace, but that was normal, it was cold on a great deal of the Massive. The only real motion she made was a shiver. She did not move to wrap her arms around herself. Dib took off his coat and sat down next to her, throwing it over her shoulders and catching her in a familial embrace.

"It's okay, Gaz."

She did not move. Not even to nod. Red and Purple gave the Professor the honor that not even the mightiest Irkens were. They themselves stood at the sides of the table and turned to Dib, "Would the two of you like a moment alone, or should we begin?"

"Go on."

They lifted up the Professor's body and carried him to the largest furnace they had in the cremation chamber, it was made for two, should two Irkens ever express the desire to be burned together, if they died together. It was spacious enough for the Professor's body to fit in a dignified manner. They shut the door and bolted it, then Red pulled down on a lever and stepped back.

There was a rush of heat and blue light from inside the furnace and the hot flames flared up and caught. Gaz just sort of sat there, frozen, as if with every passing second the gravity of their situation was setting in. Tak took Dib's place beside her and slowly rubbed her shoulders. Zim was rooted to the spot, rigid. He was a soldier overseeing the funeral of a lost comrade, nothing more. She could tell by the occasional fits of quick blinking he was, secretly, more that that, but he was standing on ceremony because at times like this, ceremony was all there _could_ be.

She reached out for Alu to find he was no longer with in arm's reach. She panicked for a moment, as if suddenly discovering he had infact been a halucination all along, but she saw him running up to Dib and throwing his arms around his waist, burying his forehead in his ribs. At first the older human remained motionless, like his sister, then he seemed to slowly become aware of the little presense beside him and he knelt down to hoist him up.

"Poor kid." she heard Dib mumble, "You're remembering your own parents, huh?"

She saw him nod as he circled his arms around Dib's neck a hid his face in his shoulder. Tak looked down at the floor, feeling tears prick at her eyes. She had never actually been able to ask about his past or his family. He was mute _and_ illiterate, after all. She never would have gotten very far by simply guessing and asking questions. Perhaps now she could devote more time to teaching him to read. Or, if nothing else, devote more energy to forcing him to learn. He was not a very attentive child.

Through the hot tears pricking her eyes, she felt an invisible hand guiding her vision to Red and Purple. They stood like Zim, at attention, but far more relaxed they had no emotional investment in the situation. They looked back at her, shared a glance, then looked towards her again. It was fleeting, and soon they were looking a head again, as if nothing had happened. She herself pretended she nothing had transpired, but the truth was a little jolt of fear had gone through her. She could not imagine why, of course. It could, and probably _was_ a completely harmless glance. Besides, it might have even been towards Gaz, they had been treating her like a regular guest of honor, after all.

And there was every reason to be paying special attention to her. Even her own kind had been wililng to pay top dollar for her (they were horribly out bid and karma caught up with them, but what ever.) she owed a great deal to the Irken Empire. They both did. Tak removed her hand from Gaz's shoulders and adopted her habit of simply staring.

"One of us should tell her."

"Not yet, Red." Purple replied softly, "It's too soon."

They looked back towards were Tak and Gaz were sitting, and Tak found herself exaiming the human. She was not reemerging, but she had not really faded any more, either. They looked back to each other, still speaking in voices so soft Tak had to strain to hear. She knew eavesdropping was wrong, of course, but she found she was doing it anyway.

"And besides, you know that involves deciding who will actually do it." Purple continued, "You're too harsh and I'm to cowardly. Red, you know that."

"It's not the kind of thing you just come out and say. It's not been done for... for generations! You'd break it to her gently—"

"I'd never tell her!"

What were they talking about? Tak looked towards Zim to see if he was hearing the things she was, but he was unmoved, he had stopped seeing, despite his intense stare at the furnace door, and, like Gaz, was completely unmoved by any thing he could see or hear. Of course, he had stopped trying to control his tears agian, and he let them slide down his cheeks, he did not take time to wipe them away. Tak was not even sure he knew the tears were even there.

The fire had died down by then, and Red and Purple swept the ashes away into a black urn, persumably one the computers had made just for the occasion. It was supposed to look like ebony, or so Tak assumed. In this light it might actually be imitaion cherry wood and she might just be mistaking it for ebony, or just plastic that was not even bothering to pretend to be wood. She could not tell if her Tallests deflated or heaved a sigh of reliefe that they had something to do besides telling 'her' something. Which ever 'her' they were talking about.

In all honesty, Tak wished she had not heard, because now she was filled with questions and she could not begin to figure it out. Her first guess was that Gaz had been taken to fix Mothercontrol, and that they had yet to tell her so. But she must have already been informed! The Tallests had ample time, after all, all the while she had been waiting for Dib, they had been with her and Zim. If she had not been told, she may have even figured it out.

What other female was there aboard the Massive? Perhaps there were one or two others, but would the Tallests deliver news to them personally? Probably not. The only ones the Tallests seemed to respect where her and Gaz. Her second guess was that Alu would have to be put in to cryogenic freeze for the trip, but Tak failed to see how that was nessicary or such a terrible calamity. It was a common thing, not something that had 'not been done for generations.'

Tak shook her head and tried not to worry about it.

Now that the ashes had been swept away, Purple moved to hand them to Dib, but his hands were full holding Alu. He nodded towards Zim. Tak's eyes followed the movement to the other Irken, who seemed to start seeing things again as Purple foated over to him and held the black urn to him. Hesitantly, he took it, turning it in his hands as if he could not believe how little it weighed.

"If you don't mind, Dib, I'd like to put this with your father's notes in the lab." Zim said, "We'll be sharing it, you see. I think he'd like to watch us work together. Of course, if Gaz would prefer something else—"

They all turned, she said faintly, "Yes, its fine. Keep them in the lab." She held out her arm, "Tak, lead the way?"

She helped Gaz to stand, and out of the corner of her eye, say Red mouth the words, _'talk to her.'_ He moved forward and took Gaz's arm from her hand and lead her forward muttering quickly, more forced haste than politeness, "Allow me."

She felt a second clawed hand on her wrist and she tried to step forward, but was effectively held back. The others left, even Skoodge and Mimi. Even the undertaker with a silent cue from Purple. No one noticed she had been retained. He turned her around and let her wrist go quickly enough, and his touch had not been forceful or gripping. Just... Just a force.

"Yes, My Tallest?"

"We... we need to talk."

Then he was silent for a moment, his lips pursed and his eyes downcast. He folded his hands behind his back, trying to seem more professional, more bold. More like Red. He opened he mouth to speak, but closed it again just as quickly, defeated and scared, as if what he was saying was just as horrible for her as it was for him.

Tak frowned, her eyes narrowing, her heart pounded a little but it was more from curiosity than nanything else. What could he possibly say that would upset her? She had seen quite a bit in her time, and she was quite past getting shaken.

"Eighty eight percent."

Okay, except _that. _Her mind when a mile a minute trying to calm down. It could mean anything. Anything at all. Maybe her PAK was at eighty eight percent effectiveness or she was eighty eight percent efficient. Certainly not that she was eighty-eight percent _complete_ as it were?

"What?"

His eyes flickered up and a dark blue crept into his cheeks, as if he could not_ believe_ he had been called upon to clarify, "That's what the medical test said, Tak. E-eighty eight percent complete."

Her heart _literally_ crash landed into the pit of her squeedldysmooch after skyrocketing into her throat and forcing out a yelp. She said down, her eyes wide and a hand to her midsection, "You... You've got to be kidding. It.. It shouldn't be more than seventy percent."

"Tallest Miyuki was only eighty. You should feel honored."

Honored? Honored to suddenly find herself _more_ female than she had been six months ago? This was her _worst fear_. This was not honor, this was a cold slap in the fate and a stab in the back from destiny. How had it happened? Why did the Gods and the souls of Tallests past torment her? "But... But I'm terrified." Tak looked up at him, swallowing her heart, which had lept up again, banging against her vocal chords, causing her voice to squeak in a nausiatingly _female_ manner.

She was terrified because she did not know _just_ what happened to Irkens who were _all female,_ aside from inevitable death of being eaten _alive_ while in a coma, and that may well be the sugar-coated story told by future generations. There were a million details — all potentially gory — that word of mouth had left out. There were not experts on Irken reproduction, and there was a good reason, it was a horrible, horrible thing.

And _she_ was on the way to being _all_ female. What would happen? They wanted to study her, right? Was that it? _Please, let that be all._

"Who... who else knows?"

"Red." Purple answered, "The medical team. They say you'll be—"

"I don't want to know!" Tak exclaimed, covering her antennae. She squeezed her eyes shut and was haunted by the sound and sight of the horribly barbaric _old_ ways, glass-eyed, green-skinned _monsters_ escaping and devouring her flesh. "How... How could this happen?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know. I—I just though you should be informed." Purple said softly, "This probably changes nothing."

"'P-Probably?'"

"A-almost certainly." Purple nodded hesitantly, "Um... we had better catch up with the others."

With an obviously fake, forced smile, he took her arm and guided her out into the hallway.

Her legs were too stiff to move.

* * *

Ohohohoh, Looks like I _did_ make something happen!

This story has more faves than alerts. Why does it have more faves than alerts? Does FFN automatically inform you if one of your faves gets an update? I wouldn't know, you see, I only fav complete stories. (I'm OCD like that.) So, if all of you want to take this off your faves to hold me to my own standards, I will be 100% okay with that.

***to Ravenflower13:

I've made it _quite clear_ that I am writing Invader Dib as a _prequel_. I would have told you this privately but your PM feature is disabled. Of course, I'm sure you're aware of this.***


	26. Chapter 26

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

I have some fairly ample sewing skills (SHUT UP YES I DO) and I would like to use them to make and Irken Invader's tunic. Keyword: Like. It means never, really.

* * *

Chapter twenty six:

Skoodge cringed a little as the needle drove into his arm, but other than that made no noise. Zim had to commend him for it, it was a great less fussing than Zim himself had put up when he had administered the drug on himself, then again, that had been in the middle of a breakdown, so most of the noise was emotional pain, not physical. Still, the nanobots left a burning sensation at the entry site, even if an Irken's skin recovered from such a small pinprick in a matter of seconds.

Skoodge flexed his fingers then rolled down the sleeve of his uniform, "Well, I don't feel different."

It had taken weeks to make a new batch of the Metamorphosis Drug. Red had picked up the formula, yes, but he had not gotten the nessicary steriods. Zim had to make them from scratch, and he had not been sure if they would work. Skoodge had bravely voulenteered, at first, Red was not going to allow it — he claimed he did not want Skoodge risking his life, but Zim was certain part of it was because he did not want Skoodge to become taller than him with out his suit, too — but after a great deal of convincing, mainly by Purple, Red had eventually surrendered.

"It should take a while, still. I think it would be best if you changed gradually, it give your body more time to grow accustomed to the change."

"Yeah." Skoodge muttered, pressing on the inside of his elbow through his sleeve, "That makes sense."

He dropped from the short chair he had been sitting in and Zim straitened up. There was a mild pain in his knees and lower back from having knelt down for so long, but he ignored it. The rest of the lab was very roomy, roomy enough that he and Dib could be on two separate sides of the room nad never hear a word the others were saying, like When Adams and Jefferson were President and Vice President, back when they were still elections, of course.

As Zim stripped off his rubber gloves and donned his typical black ones, he looked over at the human in question. He was running some simulation for some... gadget or other... Zim really did not know or care, he was really just looking to make sure the ignorant Earth-Monkey was just paying attention. It did not look like he was, but Zim did not exactly feel like jolting him back to reality right now. There was not really a great deal on his to-do list right now, it was mainly just going over the Late Professor's notes and trying to find anything useful he could, as well as transcribe them into the database, but that was best done in his office with something to drink, which meant going to the louge the scientists shared with the medical staff and communications. It was not a far walk, comparitively speaking. The Lab and he shared with Dib was centrally located and very close to the elevator leading to the living quarters on Alpha level. Gaz was just a hop, skip, and a jump away, too.

He nearly walked strait into Tak. She had her hand raised to knock on the door, but gasped a little and stepped back. He casually turned his head, "Hey, Di—"

"No!" Tak hissed quietly, "Zim, we need to talk."

"Yes?"

"I... Is your office sound proof?" Tak whispered, looking towards Dib quickly, "I'd rather he not hear us."

"Okay?" Zim asked slowly. She gave him an oddly pleading glance and he found himself giving up, "Sure, what ever you want."

They walked together across the Lab (Dib still had not noticed them) to Zim's office. It was a great deal messier now that it had been before, a small desk piled high with files from Professor Membrane's lab, so piled, in fact, he had little room to write. He was about one third of the way done importing them into the computer, and he could hardly wait to end it and have a real desk again.

Mostly because Gaz was not exactly comfortable messing around with him when they were constantly in danger of scrambling her father's life's work. An understandable feeling, of course.

Tak sat down opposite him and he could hardly see her for the files on his desk. Grumbling to himself, he snatched up a pen and note pad and scooted his chair out from behind the scientific obstructions so that he could get a good look at her. She looked worried about something. Horrified.

"What is it?" She did not say a word. Zim frowned and scooted closer, "Tak, you haven't screamed at me for a week. You haven't screamed at any one, actually, either you're taking some anger management class I don't know about or—"

"Shut up, Zim!"

_There was the Tak he knew!_

He leaned back in his chair and rested the notepad against his knee. For lack of a better option, he started to sketch Tak. She was silent while he did this, but Zim was fairly certain it was _not _because she knew she was being drawn. She seemed to be completely detatched from the situation, unaware of even the ticking of the clock.

"Eighty eight percent."

"What?"

"I"ve been tested, and my reproductive system has been found to be eighty eight percent complete."

There was suddenly a long black gash across the page as Zim looked away from his doodle and towards her, "What?"

She nodded, "They say I'll be... fully functional by the time we reach Meekrob."

"Well, that's..." Zim was at a loss for words. Great? Not according to the expression on Tak's face. He flipped the page, frowning, "You're not too happy about that. I suppose my Metamorphosis Drug is to blame."

"That's what the few doctors that know about it believe."

"I think I know what happened. The reverse formula told the nanobots to stop increasing tissue mass for the purposes of growth, not injuries. They must have found your reproductive system lacking and assumed it was due to an injury—"

"Zim, that would imply that you programmed them to know what my reproductive system should be like, but how could you do that when you don't know yourself? Did you use an old file for the anatomical information? If so, why isn't the same thing happening to you?"

"Well, if it should be I have some very confused nanobots floating around in my bloodstream right now. Longing for a purpose. Maybe if I had... Jumped the gun, like you did, it would have happened to me, too, but I don't think so. I used the most recent data I could. However, I programmed the nanobots to think for themselves, so that they would be able to repair my body quickly should I be injured. What what I know of a female's reproductive system its fairly symetrical, and you were, what, sixty percent—"

"Seventy."

"You had more than half already. I'm sure they were able to figure out the remaining thirty percent. I wonder, if we used the same process on a female with only thirty percent of a reproductive system, would the same thing happen?"

"Don't even _think_ aboutbringing Tenn into this!" Tak suddenly hissed, "Don't you dare!"

"Okay!" Zim scooted back a little, "Fine! Zim promises he won't."

"Good." Tak looked back down at her knees, and asked softly, "Zim, if I asked you to take it out, would you?"

"I think it would just be regrown, but yes, if you insisted."

"You... you have to promise me—"

"Zim promises, then! What ever you like! Just stop mopping around! I hate it!"

"Something else, too." Tak looked up at him for a breif moment, then back down, diging the claw on her thumb under the claw of her first finger nervously. Zim waited patiently for this other condition, or at least, as patiently as he could.

There was silence, as if Tak was ashamed to tell him this second condition and Zim wondered if he would have to agree to it blindly only to have it come back to haunt him later. He twirled his pen in his fingers, waiting for her to continue, and wondered if he would have to remind her to tell him this second condition. He opened his mouth to speak, and Tak abruptly added, "You... You won't let them breed me."

She sounded like such a scared little smeet! He bit down on his finger to keep from laughing. Honestly, to him it was more funny than scary, but Tak seemed to be completely serious, so should he. He contained his fit of giggles, Tak was not treating this like a laughing matter, he would not laugh. "Alright."

"And..." Tak swallowed, choking down tears, "And I will be the one to tell Dib about this."

"Understandable." Zim did not feel the need to tell Dib, because he and Tak had been talking a great deal more lately. He would to his best to butt out and stay out, and really, it would not be too difficult. He did not like being the middle man at all.

He flipped to a new page and wrote: _Problem: Tak's reproductive system has developed fully. Could have be avoided by:_ _Nanobots to reprogram and neutralize the nanobots in Tak's system. Fuck. My. Life. Solution: Remove reproductive organs and see if nanobots rebuild them, neutralize if necesscary. Possible consequences: Normal drawbacks to human hysterectomy? Hot flashes, moodswings... Zim, you don't know much do you?_

_ Talk to Dib._

_ Can't talk to Dib, he's not supposed to know._

_Talk to Gaz?_

_She'll think you're planning something._

"What are you writing?" Tak's voice interrupted his thoughts.

He looked up at her and said, "Possible solutions."

"What have you got?" she asked eagerly.

"Nanobots to neutralize—"

"Is there anyway I can help?"

"Really, Tak, aren't you a little curious?"

"What do you mean?"

"There hasn't been an Irken capable of natural reporduction in years—"

"AND FOR GOOD REASON!"

"—yes, yes, good reason." Zim muttered, "But if nothing else, we could see what a mature Irken looks like, you know?"

"But I don't want to know!" Tak shook her head.

"I could see why you're scared." Zim said, standing, "Look, I've not nothing to do here aside from monitor Skoodge and sort out these notes, so I'll work on those nanobots."

"How long do you think it will take?"

"About four months. They'll be ready by the time we reach Meekrob, I swear."

"But the time we reach Meekrob it will be too late!" Tak grumbled, "You can't work faster?"

"Tak, even without sleep I can only do so much!" Zim insisted, "Dib will get suspitious, Gaz will be jealous, she's not pleasant when she's jealous, you know."

"I know, you've got other obligiations, I shouldn't push you so hard."

She slouched again, looking at the floor. She was not one to slouch, ever. At least, not normally. She really seemed like the type to scold slouching and slovenliness. Quite the drill sargent. Now she was... so pathetic-looking.

"I can see you're worried about this. I promise I'll work as fast as I am able."

She nodded slighly, getting to her feet, "A-all right."

He tried to smile to cheer her up, but she just looked at him reproachfully and turned sharply on her heel (it was the only soldier-like thing she had done for a while) and exited his office. Dib noticed her and walked towards her, hooking an arm around her waist and starting to speak. Zim did not hear a word of it, though. His door swung shut, cutting off all sound.

Zim sighed and ran a hand over his head, Well, he had better make good of his promise. That woud, however, leave Dib to sort through the Pofessor's notes and research on his own, and he would ask — he would _pester_ — Zim relentlessly about what he was working on until he eventually caved and told Dib everything he wanted to know, and then Tak would be furious with him for letting the cat out of the bag. He turned back to the Professor's notes and heaved another sigh, walking back to the desk and sitting down. He flipped to another page in his notebook and began to write out the nutralizing program.

He would have to use the basic anatomy programing for it, too. He would be more annoyed if Tak had not looked so strangely frightened. What did she mean by asking '_you won't let them breed me_'? No one had been born the natural way on Irk in... in centuries, at least, thousands upon thousands of years, and no one ever would. Still, Zim supposed her fears were very real fears to have, and he should do what he could. True, he was not the _only_ person she had anymore, but it was good to see she was extending some trust to him, and really, that was good, Tak was not the kind of person you wanted to make your enemy.

He had been going to get a soda.

Hell, he did not feel like a soda right now. He felt like going to see Gaz. But he had to write this neutralization program first.

His door swung open. Zim looked up to see Dib standing there, a frown on his face. The Irken tried not to look annoyed when he rolled his eyes or to sound frustrated as he muttered under his breath, 'Here we go.'

Dib did not seem to hear this frustraited sigh, instead he walked over to Zim and asked, "Did Tak seem okay to you?"

"Elaborate, Dib human."

"You know... off? Depressed? Nervous, maybe? Just generally not herself?"

"What makes you think I would know."

"She came in here and _talked to you_?"

Zim tried the one tactic that never worked, but was still his fall back, "YOU'RE LYING!"

Dib groaned and looked up to the ceiling. "Let me guess, she asked you not to tell?"

Zim kept his mouth clamped shut. Dib was not going to get the best of him. No like this. Not when he had promised Tak he would keep his mouth shut. He looked down at his notebook and pretended what he was writing was absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. Once he looked up at Dib and he was frowning, his arms crossed in dissapproval. Zim mimicked the look, but seated, his notepad resting on his thigh, pen held between two fingers. They kept this stand-off going for a few more minutes and Dib eventually gave up, "You really do keep your word, you know that?"

"That's right. It makes me the middle man again, as much as I hate it, but if it must be done, Zim will do it for the good of... what ever purpose it serves. Zim is sure there is some reason for it."

Dib grumbled a few swears and sat down in the chair opposite Zim. His arms remained crossed and his eyes remained steady, "Zim, if something is bothering her, I want to know."

Zim was silent for a moment, trying to find something to say that would not give to much a way but at the same time give Dib some reassurance that things were going to be alright. "Then just wait a while. I am certain she will tell you when she is ready."

Dib was not happy with that answer in the slightest, and Zim wondered if he had not just put a rather large rift between the two of them. Then again, there were numberous unpassable rifts between them, but they still managed to build more bridges than they burned. Really, if logic could have any base in history, it was normally because of Gaz or Tak. Perhaps Gir.

It was probably safe to assume that this rift would be bridged too.

And Zim was glad of that. Granted, it would probably be only bridged weeks after Tak had talked her little... problem... over with Dib, which might not be for a while. He could easily see why she would not be to keen on telling him things were... getting shaken up... down there... I was an awkward conversation to have, with anyone, even someone you were trying to have a stable relationship with, and hillariously failing.

Zim thought of just how epically they failed, and had to hide a snicker behind his hand.

Dib's frown deepened, "What now, Zim?"

"How are things going with you two?" he asked teasingly, "Perhaps its just a lacking love life?"

"Can it, Zim!"

"Look, if she said she wanted to be the one to tell you, I'm pretty sure she's going to tell you."

"But she has talked to you?"

Sarcasm was not good in this situation, neither was an outright lie. "Yes."

Dib deflated a bit, sitting down again, "I guess I should be glad she talked to someone."

Zim just nodded.

"If she talks to you again will you _reccomend_ she talks to me?"

"Only if I think it best."

Dib, in a little sulk, walked out of his office. Zim, also in a little sulk, remained inside, so that he could look broodingly at his notes, "Come on, Zim," he mumbled to himself, "Work."

He spent a good while writing down the program and wondering when the anatomical file was. He supposed, he could, in theory, teach the nanobots that her reproductive organs were an anamoly in the system, they would treat it like any infection or tumor and destory it, and that would work, but he did not want to do that. This was an excellent opprotunity to study what once was. There was heresay for what a female Irken was like. A rare cave carving depicted a creature with wings — If you could belieive that! Wings! The thought! — other historians had unearthed written passages describing haunting eyes, and placed an unwavering emphasis on beauty.

One would think that a race that died after intimacy would not be so touchy about looks, either the texts were a hoax or what they had assumed was correct was an outright lie, perhaps a half-lie, or just plain propoganda. Zim frowned, considering the possibility. How would that be pulled off? Had tank-smeets just been an experiment that had caught on, and over the years natural reproduction had just been demonized because it was slightly less convenient?

Zim supposed he could see the logic behind that.

No one had ever actually uncovered a historical account of the actual act. Zim, and many others, had always assumed it was because it was downright rude to sit there describing the deaths of your friends and loved ones for posterity, while they themselves were _making_ posterity. Then again, while he had never heard of any confirmation, he had never heard of any contradiction, either. There were no written accounts of mothers and children in Irken history, or fathers for that matter. No one was expressly stated to be born an orphan, but no one was expressly stated to have living parents, either.

Then again, all of the remnants of pre-PAK history that had been uncovered could fit quite comfotably in one pocket of a cheap folder. It was not like the library onboard the massive, where the history of their Empire _after _the use of PAKs had become vital to life was completely recorded and preserved. Irk did not have a Library of Congress (neither did congress, anymore, either) that kept record of the entire history of the race and empire.

So really, anything Tak was afraid of could be completely false.

Of course, it could acutally be true, but it was not likely to actually come to pass.

Still, Zim was not keen on letting a good research opprotunity slip past him. He would just neutralize the nanobots in her body right now, later he would remove the supurfluous organs if she still wanted and he would stay true to his word, no one would attempt to breed her. He really could not see why anyone would want to, or how it could be nessicary, so that part of his job could not be too horribly difficult.

He focused on writing the program a bit more, but he did not get very far, becuase he was thinking about studying again. He was a scientist, at least, he was a scientist when his programing was not screaming at him to be a foodservice drone, or when Gaz was not around. Granted, it would be difficult to simultaneously study Tak _and_ Skoodge, almost impossible with out employing GIR or cameras, one of which was risky and would really only be fifty percent effective, the other was rude.

He sighed again, picking up his notepad and carrying it out into the lab, he went over to the nano-equipment and started to input the anatomical data into them, and that would take days. Next, he would have to add Tak's unique genetic code, and he would need a skin sample for that. On top of that, he had to keep Dib from coming over here and looking at it. He alwasy had been one to snoop, and something told Zim Dib would rightly assume his work would have something to do with Tak. Each one had recieved the same orders from the Tallests, _sort out the Professor's notes, work on the Metamorphosis Drug_, neither one of those involved using the nanobot programmer.

Where _was_ Dib?

Zim looked around the lab and could not see him. the door to his office was open, so Zim could see it was completely vacated, aside from his own sea of old papers and notes that had been taken from Professor Membrane's lab. Well, at least he had cleaned up his station to regulation standards, of course, it would have been better to leave a note, too. Oh well. He could have just gone down to the lounge. He could be taking a break in his living quarters.

He could have galavanted off to stalk Tak again. Or, at least pester her relentlessly about what was so horribly wrong that she had to talk to Zim and not him. Poor Tak.

He followed Dib's scent down to the lounge and down the hallway down to communications. Yup. He was pestering her again. Should he cut in? No, really, he would be coming to Dib's rescue, not Tak's, and he had to stop doing that, otherwise, Dib would grow accusomed to it and his edge would be dulled to the point where he was an instinctless loser and—

Somewhere in communications, someone was slapped. Zim chuckled to himself as he heared Dib's footsteps retreating out into the hallway, "Sorry! Sorry!"

"You had _better_ be!"

"What happened to making this work?"

A door slammed. Judging from the yelp and the muted thump, it slammed in Dib's face. Before Zim could bear witness to any damage, he turned on his heel. The entire lounge had looked towards the communications hallway. A door opened again and they heard Tak hiss, "You should not try to 'make it work' quite so well when other people are in room."

"That was _not_ my intention!"

"You expect me to believe that?"

There were two sets of footsteps going down the hallway. Zim had started to walk away, but curiosity made him stop in his tracks and turn around.

"Yes!" Dib replied.

"Well I don't!"

"Fine!"

"Don't take that tone with me!"

"I'll take what ever tone I like!"

"Fine!"

"Oh, who's taking objectionalble tones now?"

"You relentless _tease_!"

"So?"

"Get out of here!"

"Make me!"

"Act your age!"

"I _am_ acting my age!"

There was a pause, and when Tak spoke again it was in a much calmer tone, "I forget you're just eighteen. Forgive me?"

"You've been so moody lately, I think if I don't you'll kill me."

"You're probably right..."

"If it makes you feel any better I'd much rather we talk in private, anyway."

Zim turned on his heel again and walked away. It was interesting to see how quickly they patched things up. Really, their relationship was quite a volitile one, so any attempt to make it work (at least, from Dib's side) inevitably met with an explosion of temper. Yes, Tak _did_ want to make it work, but she seemed to be dead-set on making it work _on her terms_. She had every right to, of course, but after a few more weeks Zim was certain the entire ship was going to band together to do _something_ about it, he could tell by the grumbles as he walked past that the light-hearted amusement they had all once at these theatrics felt was quickly fading away.

Well, if Dib was distracted by Tak, he might as well get distracted himself. Gaz was the only one who was still unemployed. It was based on the logic that she should be spending her time practicing, she was not, of course, but no one could put her to work anyway because she was still confined to darkness. Interstingly enough wallowing in dim light did not seem to be wearing away at her psyche. Granted, she was not exactly reveling in it, but she did seem to enjoy being waited on hand and foot by numerous SIR units.

He opened the door to his cabin.

Something hit him in the face.

Something soft and warm that smelt strongly of Gaz and felt like it was made with silk yarn. Something dark red. When it fell to his feet he saw Gaz in the semidarkness, her legs crossed, her arms covering her chest, and a bright, seductive smile painting her face, "Gaz, you really should not throw my sweatervest at anyone who opens the door. Suppose I was Dib? Or one of the Tallests?"

"You gunna stand there all day or get over here?"

* * *

We get plot next week, well, more plot than we got this week and that's not saying much. I promise.


	27. Chapter 27

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

Hey! Guys! I searched myself! Not my real name, my user name! I searched cheddarbiscuit, and guess what? I found a photobucket account that's NOT MINE! Hah! how cool is that? So, i picked a different, cheddar-themed name.

* * *

_four months later_

Chapter twenty seven: A new Eden.

"I don't remember Meekrob being this... _crowded_."

"I don't remember Meekrob being populated by... _Humans_."

"I'm no expert on Meekrob so I can't really take part in this conversation." Gaz said, wrinkling her nose and lifting up her heavy black veil to have a good look around. The light burned like hell, because try as Zim might he could _not_ get the shadow matter off of her face, so she had to drop it again quickly, but she had gotten quite good at catching a quick glance and memorising what she saw on the spot. She had to admit, they were both correct, in some degree. It actually was not very crowded, but for a planet that was supposed to be inhabited by beings of pure enegery only about five hundred strong, the beings around them were awefully... fleshy. Perhaps by previous standards, yes, it was crowded, "But, yeah, humans, weird."

Particularly humans tilling the land. Gaz peeked out from under her veil again to get a second snapshot and dropped it again quickly. They were not tilling, they were tending four-month old crops. She had gotten a better look, though.

"I only see teenagers." Gaz told the others in the landing party. The party in question consisted of Dib, Tak, Zim, herself, Skoodge and Tallest Purple. Any one unessicary (Alu, Minimoose) or 'bad for diplomatic relations' (Tallest Red, GIR) remained aboard the ship to beam down later. Mimi had remained behind on Tak's order to keep an eye on Alu, chances are she would beam down with everyone else, too.

"You know, Gaz, you're right?" Dib said, she heard shuffleing feat and assumed he was looking around, "I don't see anyone over the age of fourteen, _maybe_ fifteen. It looks like we've landed on some human settlement, but, on Meekrob? How?"

"I can't imagine, but it's not very big, its less of a settlement and more of a campsite. I don't think there are more than thirteen total." Purple muttered, "Maybe—"

"Hey!"

Gaz heard running feet. She stepped back because they were coming fast with no hint of slowing down. Everyone eventually stepped back, but it served next to no purpose, because what ever teenager was barreling at them he did so at full speed, knocking Zim back haphazardly into Dib and Pruple. No one was knocked over, though, and no one was hurt. Gaz did not lift the veil to see who it was, though.

"Name's Tommy." he said eagerly, "We've been told to expect you."

"W—What are twelve human kids doing on Meekrob?" Purple asked, "I mean... It doesn't make any sense. How'd you get here before us? You must have arrived at Earth afterwords, because the ship didn't pick up any other craft on our scanners, and even then, ordinary humans do not have access to that kind of technology."

"Well, Aaron brought us here." Tommy explained, "Come, he's just up the path, this way."

"But, why did you chose to stay here?" Zim asked, "You've been tending these crops for a while."

"The Meekrob told us what was gunna happen." Tommy answered, "So we desided to stay here... It really _did_ happen, huh?"

"Yes." Dib nodded, "It happened."

"Oh."

Gaz could not see Tommy, but she figured he must be looking down at his feet now, judging from his tone. She heard his feet shuffling, and her brother asking, "How did you get off the planet?"

"Erm... You... You ever hear of the Nhar-Gh'ok?"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"So you _have_ heard of them?"

"Zim, who are the Nhar-Gh'ok?" Dib asked.

"They are am alien race that resemble human babies. There are about twelve of them on Earth, but they are only a danger when angered, and rarely are they angered."

"How come you never told _me_ about them?"

"Because you'd be arrested for dissecting a _baby_ the next day!" Tak said, "Dib, you _know_ they'd mop up the floor with you in prison!"

"_Anyway_!" Tommy said with a little growl, "We were taken off planet accidentally during one of their recon missions, when they found out we _weren't_ Nhar-Gh'ok, they sold us into slavery."

"That's horrible!"

"Well, yeah, we weren't in the best boat, I'll admit, but they had the common dencency to let us grow up a little first. So, we were about seven, I think? Old enough to remember each other a few years down the road, which was lucky, because Aaron might not have found us all take us home. I just sort of went along with it because I figured my own planet would be better than a lifetime of slavery on Foodcortia, even if I'd never seen Earth, or my parents. We stopped here on the way back to Earth. I'm glad we did, otherwise, we would have starved on the way back here."

"Aaron." Dib mumbled to himself, "I feel like I should know that name... _Aaron_... Meh, I'm sure if it matters I'll remember when I see him."

They walked on in silence for a while, then, Gaz wishing it was not so hot, because her veil was black, to block out as much light as possible, but black makes heat. Almost intolerable heat. They turned a corner which Gaz could not really see, only feel. A little breeze kicked up and she was grateful for the reliefe, even if it was only a little, and she had to hold the veil down to cover her face as the rest of it billowed up.

"Dib?"

Her brother stopped in his tracks.

"I'd recognize that hair anywhere! Dib!"

There were awkward footsteps heading towards them, then, as if who ever had spotted Dib so easily had a slight limp that had progressively gotten worse. Dib actually stepped back, stammering incoherently. He eventually forced out: "D-Dwicky?"

"That counselor that duped and manipulated you all thoes years ago, only to run off with the Plookesians and dash your hopes, dreams, confidence and trust while accidentally taking your video evidence of me?"

"Shut _up_, Zim!"

The Irken just laughed to himself as the halting footsteps came towards them. She heard Tommy stepping forward to help this limping ex-councelor the rest of the way, and Gaz felt a little bad that she could not remember the poor fellow. Probably because she had been given sessions, but she had never paid any real attention to who was _giving_ said sessions.

"Dib," Mr. Dwicky said again, "Not so delusional delusions about a certain classmate."

Dib gave an awkward sort of a _'Gah!'_ sound as Gaz heard Dwicky embracing him.

"Zim, right? You always skipped your sessions, but the councelor before me said you had the warning signs of pyromania."

"S-silence, strange human!"

"And who is this?" Gaz felt a hand reaching for the edge of the veil (it fell about to her waist, for good measure) and she stepped back on instinct, Zim swiped Aaron's hand away and hooked an arm around her waist protectively.

"It's Gaz." Dib answered for her, "My sister."

"Oh, yes. The gamer." he was shaking his head, but Gaz could not see it, a slight frown on his face, "I don't recall meeting the rest of you."

"I'm Tak."

"Tallest Pruple, at your service!"

"Let's move in side." Gaz said, "I-I don't mean to be rude, but the light bothers me."

"Of course, this way." Aaron said, their party moved forward, but slower now, do to Mr. Dwicky's slight limp. Eventually, however, Gaz saw the sillouette of a high-ceilinged building that looked like some form of chapel, rising in the distance. She was unfamiliar with the smell of crops and farming, but she was certain several farms on earth had smelled like this, the fragrance of cut grass and upturned turf, flowers and weeds and water. She heard running water shortly after that, and felt it splashing over her exposed shins, she looked to her left and she saw a large fountain.

Zim hissed as the water hit is skin, and cursed a little in Irken, nothing major. They walked on, and evetually the earthen pathway became dotted with crumbling walking stones, to gradually become more abundant until she was standing on a pale blue pathway of solid marble. Eventually they passed into the shadow of the building and Gaz did not waste a second whipping the veil off and turning around to soak up every detail she could, also, to use the fabric to dry Zim's wet face.

Dwicky and Tommy had set up camp in the ruins of an old Meekrob building, wheat was being grown nearby and there was a young orchard to her right, just beyon the fountain, which Tommy was standing by, splashing water on his face and drinking. He was a dark haired boy, it had been shaved close, but was begining to grow out into a litte mane of spiral curls, his eyes were blue, and he had a roman nose, as well as a little white scar across his forehead, and several piercings dotting his ear.

Gaz turned around to look at the inside, it was cool and dark, the ceiling cracking in places, and the shafts of light caught drifting specks of dust like little stars, it was made of the same blue marble-like stone the walkway had been made of. Infact, if Gaz turned around agian, she could see that the walkway was infact a remnant of the building, and a few pillars had fallen over.

Mr. Dwicky was walking again, hobbling really, to a fallen piece of rubble, Gaz looked up, frowning. If another stone that size fell, it could kill a man, but everything else seemed fairly stable. She looked back at Aaron, now that they were inside, she could see that Dwicky's slight limp was a _horrible_ limp that he managed to disguize with a dignified cane, but his leg was a little twisted, actually, the 'little twist' was just what Gaz could see, it might actually be quite mangled, the worst of it hidden by his clothes.

He caught her staring and said casually, "Escalator Accident."

She was not enitrely sure what he meant, she remembered _Dib_ being afraid of escalators, but she could not figuire out now anyone could _actually_ hurt themselves on one, "Oh."

"Of course..." he said as he limped, his voice faltering with the effort, "Running across the galaxy... repeated escapes from slave hunters... didn't exactly help it." he turned towards her to lean heavily into his seat, Gaz could tell he was trying to mask the fact that the limp was much worse than it appeared, "Zim, I've heard your name dropped once or twice out in space. Are you familiar with Skoodge?"

"Yes."

Dwicky grinned slightly, partly in attempt to hide the effort of sitting down, partly because he was genuinely amused at some bitter irony. Gaz frowned as she watched him slowly sink down, and Zim stepped forward to help him sit, "How do you know Skoodge?"

"Oh, I owe him money—"

"I told you!" Tommy cut in like he had done it a million times before, "_I'll_ go work for Skoodge to pay your debts." He walked past Gaz, his hair dripping wet.

"Alone?" Dwicky raised an eyebrow, Gaz could tell by the way he frowned he had every confidence in Tommy, he just did not want Tommy traveling deep space with illegal cargo.

"Okay," Tommy shrugged, "M-maybe Dexter, too."

"You're fourteen!" Dib exclaimed, "Zim, tell him he's just a kid!"

"Actually, Skoodge isn't the type to collect." Zim said, getting to his feet, "He's nicer than he looks, and he's against slavery, robot slavery is another story entirely."

Purple had begun to inspect the place now, looking the walls over, frowning to himself. Tak stood in the space that served as a doorway to the ouside, but was once a door to a foryer, staring absentmindedly. Where they were now appeared to be some sort of grand hall completely with the ruins of a table, or two, and a dais. Everything beyond a certain point was still dusty from neglect and disuse, it seemed the inhabitance here used only a half circle around the door, about ten feet in radius. There was a pile of ashes and half-burned wood, and a ring of sleeping bags.

"It's not much, but it was the best we could do—"

"I've been on a ship so long!" Gaz said, "Anything that doesn't suddenly lurch is fine with me."

She put a fair bit of distance between her self and Dib because if the mild discomfort it caused her. Four months, he had yet to stop glowing and she had yet to stop being covered in darkness, Red and Purple both promised the Meekrob would be able to reverse the transformation, but they had yet to run into a Meekrob.

"Did the Meekrob once have physical bodies?"

"Yes." Dwicky answered, "Many eons ago, or at least, so they told me."

"Fascinating." she heard Pruple mumble from the other side of the great hall.

Then she heard Red's voice faintly, _'Can I beam down _now_?'_

"No." his co-ruler answered.

Gaz smirked to herself, finding humor in even the most basic things now, such was the extent of her boredom. She wondered when her powers would be brought back into control, or if they ever would be. Would she be cursed to stay out of the light forever? Doomed to spend forever in this dusty, dark sanctuary?

It felt rude to ask Dwicky to take her to the Meekrob after he had put so much effort into sitting down, and everyone else seemed to be too busy, so she did not, she just ran her finger along the edge of the stone bench and marveled at the inch of dust that came away on the pad of her finger, as well as the clean canyon she had just made. Then, understandably, she sneezed.

She was far enough away that no one seemed to hear it, so she just kept walking down the length of the table, wondering how many thousands of years ago its last use it had been. Her fingers brushed something under the dust. A medalion-like thing, that was covered in so much dust one coud hardly see it. She picked it up and brushed the worst dust off, then blew the remaing bits away — and sneezed again — she held it up so that the design caught the nearest shaft of light and examined the raised design.

It was like a Celtic knot, but with a skull in the foreground, in the same style and shape as the necklace she herself wore around her neck. Gold, but the looks of it, but faded away, so the gold was really just a memory. It piqued her curiosity, perhaps she had found some sort of ancestry in the acient ruins of Meebrob? Funny.

She turned it over once or twice to try to glean every detail she could from it, but failed in getting anything else out of it. She resolved to ask the first Meekrob she saw about it, but knew it was probably so old they would not be of much help.

She turned back to Zim and Dwicky now, Tommy had run off somewhere and Zim was sitting on the floor, a little frown on his face. She was out of earshot, so she could not hear what they were saying. When Zim noticed her approaching, he stood up and stopped talking, "Some of the Meekrob should be here soon, Dwicky has been told to extend his hospitality towards you, there are not many places good for human habitation on the planet, after all. The Meekrob are pure energy, they don't eat, sleep—"

"All right Zim. I got it."

"You look like you've found something."

"Yeah, this." she said, holding out the medallion. Zim took it from her hand, instantly intrigued. He held it up to the light and even looked at it under the magnifying glass tucked away in his Pak. Then he casually reached forward an compared it to her necklace, "It's got the similar look to it skull design.

"You think I'm desended from space gypsies?"

"I'd believe it." Zim said casually, dropping it back into the palm of her hand, "I'd believe it even if I found proof to the contrary."

Gaz laughed and tucked the medalion away in her skirt pocket. Purple was still examineing the place, Dib and Tak had wandered off elsewhere, it seemed, becuase Gaz could not see them. She stood still for a moment, in the shade of the monolith's interior and she heard them both laughing on the outside somewhere. It would be nice to go outside and _not _have the shadows burn. She worried breifly if the Meekrob could actually fix it, then reminded herself that there was nothing that would be helped by worrying, except skin conditions.

She spread her veil out on the stone floor and sat down on it as one would a blanket (because how many sensible people would sit on a stone floor while wearing a short skirt and thigh-high socks?), far enough away from the door that she was not in everyone's way, and the light was no where near her. Zim joined her, stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles in front of him, leaning back on his hands.

This weather made her miss Earth, because really, this seemed like a peaceful evening in the coutryside if she looked out and did not constantly remind herself that it was Meekrob and not Earth. Would her father have liked to see this place? Probably. Gaz tucked her knees under her chin and felt a little pang of remorse in her chest.

_'Can I beam down now?' _she heard Red ask somewhere a few yards behind her.

"Not yet."

Red groaned in frustration

"Your orders Red. You're not supposed to come down until I've made good relations with the Meekrob. I haven't so much as _seen_ a Meekrob."

Red goraned again, _"Well, what have you seen?"_

"Nothing much." She heard Purple answer, "Just this place."

A third groan and the communication ended.

Two girls, also fourteen, walked past the entry way, each carrying a basket of scavaged fruits, they looked her way and kept going, shock and awe evident in their eyes and by the little whispers they shared. Gaz did not mind too much, she had gotten used to the stares and the whispers. Of course, on the Massive, most whispers had been out of _respectful_ awe, the two pre-teens seemed slightly scared, but even she had been afraid of her own reflection.

She and Zim passed more time in silence, until he seemed to be unable to stand it and he scooted cloer to her, so that their shoulders were touching, "Every thing's going to be fine, you'll see."

"Oh, I know everything is going to be fine so long as we're together."

A brief cringe came over his face, but it was gone so quickly it might have just been a freak twitch, nothing more. Gaz ignored it easily, because no sooner had his features smoothed over than he had given her a light kiss and echoed, "So long as we're together."

They both jumped at the sound of stone scraping against stone, all four heads in the room turned towards the sound, but aside from Dwicky, no one moved. With a little grunt of effort and a heavy lean on his cane, the ex-counselor got to his feet and walked over to the stone slab that had risen. A woman's head popped out, she appeared human, perhaps a bit more blue. Perhaps very blue, really. A pale cyan, the same color as a clear sky.

"Dwicky," Zim asked suspitiouly, "Who is that? It's certainly not a human child."

"You say that like she's..." Dwicky roughly dropped to his knees, "... something special."

Gaz frowned. If she was nothing special, why was she hiding? She recalled Dwicky's comment about Skoodge, and wondered if perhaps he was not afraid she would be used as barter to pay off debt. She wondered breifly how Mr. Dwicky had managed to owe the little druglord money, but realized it must have been a loan so he could purchase one or two of the children in his care from their kept her mouth shut about it, though, and instead asked, "Who is she?"

"I'm not sure. Most of the time we just call her Muse."

He did not say anymore after that. He helped her to climb out of the tunnel she had hidden in, and in return she helped him to stand, and handed him his cane. She helped him limp over to where he had been sitting previously. She brushed her short white hair behind her ears and straightened out her clothes, passing Zim and Gaz a kind little nod as she walked out side.

Gaz watched her pick up a basket by the door and walk away, eventually vanishing, when had gone, she leaned over and asked her resident expert on all things Xeno and asked, "Zim, what was that?"

"That was a Camrane, I believe." Zim whispered to her, "They are actually descendants of the race that abandoned Europa several million years ago, and are scattered across the universe, so its hard to find someone who's not got a little Europan in there blood in some regions. They sell for more than a small fortune in the slave markets. Not as much as you, but still a high number."

"Zim, that just makes me wonder how she joined _Dwicky_ in the first place."

"Good question, but he got defensive. Don't ask."

There was something about his tone, and a slightly miffed vibe in the air that made her instinctively want to drop the subject. Which she did. Heavily. The final words weighed heavily until a light show behind her, burning her scalp. Holding a hand over her eyes, she turned around to see a Meekrob floating a few feet away.

"I'm here. You must be the ones we've waited for. Where is you brother?"

"Oh, he's around, I'm sure." Gaz answered, standing up out of respect, but also partly to find the best angle to view him. He was a glowing creature, she had to find a way to keep his light from her eyes.

It was a curious thing. One would think if it was made of pure energy, it would have no true form, but it did, but it was a very simple form, lacking pupils, a mouth, and the hands were not meant to appear or be functional. It reminded Gaz slightly of some strange combination of a rayfish and anglerfish in shape in shape and biology, but slightly oblong, and very narrow, with a vague symblance of a human face, complete with a little bandage like-bump on its forehead. He quickly drifted towards her, "I understand your powers are untrained and have gotten the best of you."

"Yes." she answered, "I'd like some teaching, and if you could take this darkness off of my face it would be nice."

"It won't be too difficult." the Meekrob said, "I just need to re-fortify the mental barriers the council placed on you the day you were born."

"Oh, okay—Wait what?"

"They are broken and must be fixed." he replied, ignoring her small outburst, "Please, lay down."

Knowing her questions were not going to be answered, Gaz shrugged, assuming that this far into space, whatever happened could not possibly be too horrible, and did as she was told. Besides, they might answer how they had known she had needed mental barriers placed on her when she was a kid later, if she was persistent. She was now laying flat on her back with her darkened face as far away from the light of the door as possible. The Meekrob came to float at her head, his faint light smarted a bit, but nothing too horrible. She closed her eyes to fend off as much of the faint glow as she could, but this Meekrob glowed as her brother did, just enough to be an annoyance.

First, she heard a hum. Kind of a... buzz, really, like a swarm of bees inside her head but, no, that was wrong, this was more pleasant than that, like very tiny, very quiet bees just sort of... pleasantly drifting inside her head from one fragrant flower of peaceful throught to the next. She was drifting out of her body and out of the monolith, beyond the young crops and out into the green valleys.

She was vaguely aware of the pleasant sigh that escaped her lips.

Zim, however, was keenly aware of it and he said abruptly. "How are you feeling?"

_Sleepy. _Gaz thought, trying to turn her head towards him and open her eyes to say something. She felt Zim his hand on her wirst, and it pulled her back to the inside of the building, back to her body.

"Do not disturb her."

"I'm sorry."

He let go and Gaz continued her out-of-body experiance, until she was set down, feet first, in a valley about a mile or two away from where her body was kept. It was a peaceful place. The humming had faded now and she was standing in absolute silence, and what was no silence was just peace and beauty. Gaz found herself laying down in the grass, and it was so real she could smell it, and feel its cool, touch against her fingers. Four months on a spaceship, four blasted months, never knowing if she would see grass again at all, or feel the sun on her skin and not have it burn her face.

She had never thought she was grow to _miss_ nature, really, she had never spent much time in it at all, maybe a few camping trips that were really poorly disguized ventures to find bigfoot.

"Gaz!"

"I _told you_ not to disturb her!"

"Sorry."

But Gaz was not disturbed. She highly doubted she could be disturbed. Not at a time like this. Not at all. She could hear birds chirping and could see a butterfly sailing past and she was not in the least bit tempted to play a video game. It was so not like herself it was almost worrying, but she was not frightened in the least. Instead, all she could do or say or think was, "Damn! I missed the sun!"

She laid there for what seemed like a good few hours, until she was certain she got a much-deserved sun burn (but how could she do that in an out-of-body experience?) and the sun had passed from the middle of the sky to one fourth down, and she hardly noticed, for her eyes remained shut. The feeling of weightless serenity stopped, though, when she heard the Meekrob say, _'It is done.'_

Then she was drifting fast towards the building and she heard the clip and echo of Zim's boots on the stone floor. She heard Dib and Tommy laughing somewhere, the fountain bubbing again. She heard Zim quickly stepping towards her and knealing down, "You're alright?"

"I feel fine." Gaz answered, a little drowsy, but fine, nonetheless. She sat up and looked around, Tak had joined them inside, so had a few of the other resident teenagers. Gaz made a note of memorizing their faces later, she would probably need to learn each of their faces and names. Her eyes eventually came to rest on Tak. She smiled softly and held up a mirror.

Gaz took it from her and examined her face inside it. At first, she was shocked to see the eyes she was born with, because four months in space with glowing red eyes? She had gotten used to _them _so now not-glowing, amber eyes were a fright. She laughed with reliefe as she ran her fingers over her familiar pale skin, then slid them over her dark hair, It had grown a bit more over the past four months, past her shoulders now, down to the middle of her back. "Oh, I'm me again! I mean, I look like me again! When do I start learning how to use my abilities?"

Because, really, if she could harness that mad power, her life would become much better than it was already.

"Your training will begin when your mind has grown accustomed to the barriers I have set up, this could take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. Fortunately, I am aware of your mental state, so I will inform you when it had settled down."

"Oh."

"Don't sound so depressed, you're home."

"Home..." Gaz echoed, looking down at the floor. She doubted she would locate another planet like an atmosphere more compatible with humans, and had she not been told time and time again that if she wanted to seek sanctuary, Meekrob was the place?

"Yes, I suppose I am."

* * *

SHUT UP I LIKE DWICKY!

Anyway, next chapter consists almost entirely of Zim being emo. Yay! Angst!

I'm not even going to pretend that I don't like shamelessly begging for reviews.

"COME OOOOOOOOOON! Six more and I can get two hundred. Go! Go! Go! Go! Everyone review."


	28. Chapter 28

Meta-Morphine.

(Discliamed.)

Okay, well, Mr. 200 is a massive troll. It appears he has no account, so he can't get his prize. So, instead, I'll just raise the question (which has nothing to do with Meta-Morphine, btw, so don't panic.):

When the pheonix rises from the ashes,

Is it a new bird, or a second life for an old hero?

Even if the question is answered properly,

You cannot save those who are fated to die.

* * *

Chapter twenty eight: *It's not emo enough...*

Sunsets were supposed to be nice, peaceful things to watch. Zim sat down in the grass beside Gaz and it was hell. He had managed to successfully deny the facts for four months, but not that they were here, on Meekrob, now that they had promised to train her and help the Irkens regain their former, emotionless glory, he could not hide it from himself any longer.

He was going to stop feeling. He was not going to stop loving Gaz soon. How long did he still have with his emotions? Years? Weeks? Months? How long would it take for them to train her? It would take two months to get to Dirt, if the Massive was at her best, and she _was_ at her best. How long did they have on Meekrob?

Zim's hands fidgeted and he felt like drawing, any thing to ignore this anxiety, but his supplies were back on the ship and he did not want to miss a second with her now, because who knew how long he would still have?

She was a fast learner.

Please, please, _please_, let her own powers stump her. Just this once, have her not be able to learn. What if she did no even need training? What if the Meekrob just sent her merrily on her way? Then he would just have two months.

How would he sum up the courage to tell her in just two months that they would stop being a couple? That he could not love her any more?

"Zim, you're anxiety has been directly coorelated to our proximity to Meekrob."

"Eh?"

"You're acting crazy, Zim." Gaz clarified, "What's the problem?"

"There is no problem! Zim has no problem, Love Pig! What makes you think Zim has a problem?"

She gave him one of her looks. A raised eyebrow, an angry frown. Zim cringed. He was making it obvious that he was no feeling well. There was no point in even trying to hide anything from her. She lay down in the grass, still frowning. He was nervous and now she was upset with him.

Damn, she was pretty.

"It's not something I want to trouble you with right now."

"Okay, fine. Keep me in the dark. I don't care." she said defiantly.

"It's not like that, Love Pig—"

"Don't you 'Love Pig' me!"

"Acceptable."

She was fuming now. Zim would even go so far as to say she was murderously angry. He tucked his knees under his chin and stared at her. The light was so perfect on her at sunset. It was firey and brilliant, it matched her personality as well as matched her coloring. He sighed in frustration. Where was his sketchbook when he _needed _it?

Because she was just too perfect. It was a toss up between drawing her and getting physical, and she was probably _not_ in the mood for getting physical. Still, to test his luck, Zim closed the space between them and reached out for her hand. "...Gaz."

She frowned, averted her eyes, and jutted out her chin, a sign that she was not interested in any amorous actions. Zim found himself laughing. It was all he could do. He did not want to tell her what was wrong. It might distract her from her training. He could not allow that.

Of course, she was not going to submit to him because he was not telling her what was troubling him, but when he did fully explain things, would she really want him anymore?

He gently tried to turn her face to him, but she slapped his hand away with a soft, stubborn, "_Hmph!_" and she actually went so far as to _scoot away from him_! The nerve! So it was to silent treatment, was it? He was an Invader! He could withstand any torture, even the silent treatment. She would forgive him in the morning, anyway.

... Unless she didn't.

Tallests! What if she did not? What if she never spoke a word to him again? What if she spent her training refusing to talk to him, and it was only after she fixed Mothercontrol that she spoke to him again, only to find out that he was an emotionless brick and had no interest in speaking with her? Or what if she just plain never listened to him, even though he tried time and time again to warn her that fixing Mothercontrol would put an end to their relationhip.

Zim, though almighty, could only_ really_ stand up to the horrible and notorious torture known as 'silent treatment' for so long. In reality, he was quite a weak creature when it came to neglect. He could only stand being pointedly ignored for about ten seconds, and if he had honestly done something wrong, he would repent desperately and beg for forgiveness. Of course, if he _had_ done something wrong, it would take quite a bit of begging to get her to to forgive him.

She spared him a glance that lasted half asecond, then continued staring down her nose at a patch of grass that displeased her, but it displeased her slightly less than he did. Oh yeah, he was in trouble.

"Zim is a pathetic, contemptable being. Please forgive him, Gaz Temptress. You know he would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. He... He is simply worried that he does not have as much time with you as he originally thought."

"Oh?" Gaz asked, sitting up, to miffed to be worried, "And has Zim taken ill?"

"Not exactly."

"And I suppose only the almighty Zim could find a way to be 'not exactly' sick." she said dryly.

"Gaz..." He grabbed her arms and forced her to look at him. She frowned at him, her golden eyes — how he had missed those eyes! — catching the light perfectly. On any other occasion, he would be filled with happiness, but now? Today? It just broke his heart and took his voice away.

He was going to _stop_ loving her!

He could not tell her. He could not say a word. He wanted to. Desperately. Maybe she could see through the anguish and find a solution. But what if the only answer she found was to leave the Irken Empire to crumble away, just so she could keep him to herself? He could never blame her for it, but how could he live like that, knowing he had stood back and let his mate be so selfish?

She loved him. He knew that. He was all she had left, aside from her brother. She was frowning slightly, looking him over. He just looked at her pleadingly, trying to sum up the courage to say it. His entire body was shaking and he felt tears pricking his eyes. _Gaz, we're gonig to stop being_. That was all he had to say. Sure, it did not make sense, and it would demand an explanation, but he could just run away like a coward and he would never have to explain.

She cradled his face in her hands, she knew he was trying to say something, but could not, for what ever reason, "Zim, you aren't sick, are you?"

"N-no! Zim, sick? Never."

She frowned, trying to catch a lie in his eyes, "Zim, tell me what it is."

He was stumbling over the words, and eventually he gave up entirely and threw his arms around her, to never let her go again. He did not want to tell her any more, he wanted a physical reminder that everything was going to be all right. Was he going to miss touching her like this when his emotions were gone? Would he look back on the memories of her whispering his name and feel sick about it?

Would they even let him _keep_ those memories?

* * *

"You're _carrying_ her back?" Dib demanded, blocking the archway with his body. Zim stopped in his tracks, looking at him in confusion. It was a large archway, so he could easily slip past the over-protective human, which made him wonder why Dib was even _trying_ to be a one-man blockade. "What happened?" he demanded.

Zim snarkily replied, "Well, Dib human, she fell asleep."

"Why?" Dib asked, confused and astonished, "Gaz normally stays up late."

Zim looked down at Gaz's sleeping form his his arms, and he desided it was best to say, "Well, yes, but there are... Certain exceptions."

"Oh." Dib dissaproved for a moment, but the realized there was no point in dissaproving, "She's not to heavy for you, is she?"

"The day my arms hurt after carrying your sister is the day I've begun to physically decline." Zim joked, walking past the human, "Get a pillow for me will—"

He had meant for the command to go to Dib, but as he knelt down to lay Gaz on the floor (there were no beds, at least, not that he could see) Tak was already there with a pillow and blanket taken from the Massive some time ago.

"We need to talk." she hissed.

'All right." Zim replied quietly.

"We sleep below ground." Tommy cut in. The two Irkens turned to the sound of grating stone, and saw him, opening up the trap door Zim had seen Muse emerge from a while ago, "It'll be hard to get her down the ladder, but I think we can manage."

As Zim and Tak lifted her up again, he stuck his head down the hole and called, "Hey, Pheobe, we've got people coming down."

It really was not difficult getting Gaz into the lower level. Instead of using the ladder, Zim just used the legs in his PAK to descend into the candle-lit room. This was a feat which impressed Tommy and Pheobe both, even if Pheobe did not look to over joyed to have her sleep interrupted. They appeared to be twins, but it might just be because they were both wearing blue. When the commotion was over, the girl took off her glasses and closed her eyes again, once again unimpressed.

"What is this place?" Zim heard Dib ask from the ladder.

Pheobe glowered at him angrily, but said nothing. The expression on her face was readable enough. Dib waved awkwardly and avoided her as much as he he could.

"That is a good question." Tommy replied, quietly, guiding Zim and the sleeping Gaz over to a makeshift bed in the corner, "But there's a million ways out of it. I guess its just a hiding place, you know, for invasions and stuff."

He climbed up the ladder, and Dib followed, after staring a while and Tak and Zim, standing there over Gaz. She had not even been disturbed by the move. She was a strangely heavy sleeper.

"Zim..." Tak pleaded desperately, taking his arm and shaking him "I... I don;t feel good... I feel... jumpy... Like... I don't know."

The only reason he was not exited was because she looked so terrified. Her fingers were wringing themselves into impossible knots and her lower lip was swollen and dark from being constantly bitten out of worry. She wanted him to miss this opprotunity to study for a good reason: she was paralyzed with fear of what _could be_ where as he embraced it eagerly. Franted, taking notes on Irken development would be empty and almost like _voyeurism_ if he knew how frightened and unwilling Tak was.

"Okay. The nano bots are in the lab, its a shame we had to leave before you could take them, we'll just beam aboard."

"Why didn't you bring them with you?" Tak hissed, taking his arm and dragging him towards the ladder, "We'll need Purple's permission to beam aboard."

"Simple. You want to check on Alu and I want to get my sketchbook."

She climbed quickly up the ladder and hastily made her way to Tallest Purple, who was closely examineing a carving on the wall. She said quickly, "Excuse me, My Tallest."

He looked away quickly, "Hm? Yes? What? Oh, yes Tak?"

"Zim and I would like to beam aboard." she said, "Its getting late. I want to check on Alu. He wants to fetch his sketchbook.'

Dib was right, She _was_ a terrible liar! Well, maybe it was she was scared. When Purple looked at him quizzically, he just shrugged and nodded and said casually, "Inspiration. It's a pain sometimes."

"Of course." Pruple said, taking out his communicator, "No problem. Red could use with some company anyway."

_'What is it, sir?'_

_ "_Two to beam aboard."

There was a shove and a light scream from the other side. _'Who?'_ came Tallest Red's voice, _"Is there any trouble? Do I need to get down there?"_

"Zim and Tak."

_'Oh, peachy, so they can beam up but I can't beam down?'_

"Now, Red."

"_Purple I feel useless!"_ Red replied after an exasperated sigh, but Zim and Tak were beamed aboard, as he was told to do so. As soon as they were on the Massive's beaming pad, they stepped off of it, Tak leading the way, and heading towards the lab.

Lots of smaller Irkens stopped and saluted but Tak ignored them, and on occasion she even glared at one. This gave Zim the impression that _someone_ had let everyone slowly know that Tak was the first complete female in a millinia, which was certainly made her wothy of everyoneÕs respect. Indeed, the only reason Miyuki was a Tallest was because she was so close to being all female. Spork had been at least two inches taller than her, but he had respectfully stepped aside out of reverence.

Zim shook his head to clear it and keep up with Tak. Once they were in the lab, she turned to him and rolled up the sleeve of her uniform, "Where are they?"

Zim walked over to the locked cabinet he had kept the nanobots in, scanned his hand and reached for the ready-made syringe. Only to find it was gone. His mind listed all possible suspects, but he knew the only person who knew about it was Tak, and there was on way she could have gotten in. It could not have been Dib, he had his own cabinet, and could not break into Zim's even if he tried.

It had to be someone who could override the security system with his own handprint, and the only person who could do that was one of the Tallest.

The door shut behind them.

"You're both looking for this, aren't you?" a rough voice said from the door. They both turned around to see Red standing there, a syringe percariously balanced on his two fingers, and his hand was on the door. He must have been waiting for them. He must have orded them beamed aboard and had rushed to the lab.

"Give that to me, Red." Tak said, holding out her hand and stepping forward, "It's meant for me."

"I know what its meant for." He said, closing his fingers around the glass tube and taking it out of her reach, "I _am_ capable of hacking into Zim's equipment and seeing what he is doing."

"How long have you known?"

"All four months." he said, tucking the syringe away on his person, "Don't feel bad, Zim, every office is bugged."

"And what are you going to do?" Tak demanded, her voice gripped with the same kind of madness that she had once had when she had tried to kill Dib and abduct Gaz, "Kill me? Hold Alu hostage so I will do everything you say‚"

Zim stepped forward, ready to hold her back. Why was she acting like Red was out to do something unspeakably horrible to her?

... _Was_ Red out to do something unspeakably horrible?

Instead of standing behind her, he stepped between the two. It was obvious Red _did_ know that Tak was no longer a Vestigial, but what he was going to do with the information was unknown to Zim. Tak seemed to think he was not just going to sit back and take notes on her development. And Tak was not one to make wild accusations with out reason.

"You've got me pegged as the villan here." Red mumbled. Then he held his hands up in surrender, "Okay, fine. I'm the bad guy. You've caught me. I'm using you as a plan B and I'm sorry."

Zim was certain that had some meaning to it, but it sailed over his head.

Red continued speaking, "But its a safety net, Tak, one I have told you time and time again that we _need_. Suppose Gaz just can't do it, no matter how hard she tries? I told you, the production of Smeets has slowed, and the ones Mothercontrol does produce are getting weaker with each hatching. Something in the system _wants_ us weak. You'll out live Gaz by at least three hundred years—

"That's so selfish!" Tak screamed.

"Selfish? You call me selfish?" Red demanded, "Even if Zim manages to keep them alive, they still won't live too long. Not even _Alu_ will be around in one hundred years, you will have no one, eventually. Tak, don't you realize what you could accomplish? Artificially born Smeets have the PAK becasue they cannot survive with out it. It's something we can't do anything about because we can't reprogram Mothercontrol or the Breeding Calculator. It was a deliberate choice by the computer to keep us in line and weak. If Gaz can repair the malfunction, then you are free to do as you like, but you_ can _stop our oppression—"

"No!"

"I promise, you won't feel a thing—"

"What in Miyuki's name are you two going on about?"

"I want what is best for this Empire." Red told him calmly, "I want our decendants to be free. I don't want future generations to remember me as the leader that _knew_ Mothercontrol was wrong, and did nothing."

"What?"

"Your emotions, Zim?" Red asked, stepping forward. Tak stepped back, pulling Zim with her, "Functioning as normal, the computer takes them away, and I know you aren't too keen on losing them. With out them, you obey orders, don't you? No emotions, no empathy. No empathy, no morals. No Id. No superego. Nothing. You'll obey all orders, even those given to you by a computer. We were all subject to the computer's influence, even Purple and I. We started Operation Impending Doom II, like Spork had started Impending Doom I, because _Mothercontrol_, wanted it to happen. It was in the orignal programming, its nature is to consume, take over, convert as many races as it can to the PAK, so unite everyone in a mindless hive—"

"You're worse than the Dib-human!" Zim stepped forward and grabbed the shoulder's of Red's suit, shaking him, "Listen to yourself, Red, you are talking like some malicious schizo programmed Mothercontrol out of sheer spite!"

"A Vortian, and Irken, and Meekrob[1.]—"

"RED!"

"I'm serious!" Red shot back, "Mothercontrol was originally intended as a program to consolodate all of the research the thee races had made. They were the most advanced in this galaxy, and they knew that if they wanted to avoid an arms race, they needed to unite. But the Irken and the Vortian, they let the program get out of control, and tried to convince the Meekrob to go along with it, giving Mothercontrol political power as well as access to the research of all three races. The Meekrob stopped supporting the project and they took their share of the information back. Eventually, even the Vortian scientist grew so frightened of the project that he, too, left, this was shortly after the Irken introduced the prototype PAK, a data chip to be implanted in the skull at brith.

"Over the next two hundred years, Mothercontrol gained power, and made the implantation of the chips mandatory. It brainwashed the population and..." suddenly, Red cringed in pain, his hands flying to his back, "And it doesn't want to be stopped."

"What?"

"A defence mechanism..." Red forced out. The suit buckled and opened in the back, allowing the Tallest's real body to tumble out into Zim's arms, "It can't to much, but it can do that. Don't worry. It won't kill me."

There were a few moments of terror, where Zim watched the expression of pain on Red's face and he _did_ worry that his PAK would kill him, but it didn't happen. The Tallest's tiny claws dug into Zim's palm, and he succumbed to the illusion that he was holding a child. Just like all of Earth had done for him, many years ago. When the look of angony faded away, Red composed himself and climbled back into his suit.

"I believe you two don't..." He grimaced a little, but as they rushed forward, he held up his hands to show them he was unhurt, "Need to be told that things changed. For the worst. We understand eachother now, don't we?"

"I never knew—"

"We were never supposed to know. It was by chance I found out."

"How?"

"The grapevine." Red informed them casually, "Tenn, while monitoring Mothercontrol on Dirt, found what she thought was the print out of the original program, which she then handed over to Skoodge. About two months ago, Skoodge gave it to me, rightly thinking that it could provide some help for Gaz when she attempted to fix the malfunction. However, I was the only one who bothered to _read_ it. It was not just a print out of the original program, but a log of the production."

"Does Purple know about this?" Zim found himself asking.

Red scoffed, "You think I would bother _Purple_ with something like that? He's got too much to worry about right now. I mean, _sure_ he knows what I'm planning that what is in the log, but no, I haven't bothered to give him the details."

"Don't you think you should?"

"Not really. I don't even think he wants to know." The Tallest shrugged, "So, you going back to the planets surface now?"

"The _nanobots._" Tak hissed, holding out her hand, "You may have convinced _Zim_ I don't have rights, but you haven't convinced _me _yet. Maybe you've convinced him not to tamper with what — by my own right! — is mine to save or destroy, but I won't let any more damage be done."

Obviously reluctant, Red fished the syringe out of his suit, "Are you sure its not too late?"

"It is never too late." Tak replied. Stepping away and holding out her arm, "Zim, do it."

With a bit of reluctance of his own, Zim took the syringe from Red's hand and a medicated cotton swab from the jar on the counter. He cleaned the inside of Tak's elbow and inserted the needle into her arm. Her skin darkened at the entry point, but she did not make any expression or exclamation of discomfort. Whe he looked at her face she only looked relieved.

Red looked to have a strange mix of guilt and relief. Strange, because Tak had essentially just blatantly disobeyed him, and as brutal and difficult as it could be, Zim would not be suprised if she did not preform the opperation herself, and remove her reproductive organs if left alone for ten or fifteen mintues. Scary bit was, he suspected she was capable of it, regardless of the fact that she knew next to nothing about the organs she was taking out, and the immense pain she would experience.

When he bandaged her arm and she had rolled down her sleeve again, Red accompanied them down to the beaming pad, but Tak stopped them from going anywhere, and instead walked past the pad, up to the living quarters, and when she returned she had Alu and the SIR units with her, as well as Zim's sketch books.

"Best have something to show for it."

"Ah, yes, who's keeping things from Pruple now?" Red muttered, mostly to himself. Tak just flashed him a grin as she guided an obviously overjoyed Alu onto the pad. Zim stepped up next, turning to salute his leader, only to find that his leader was joining their group. With a little nod to the technician, he said, "Six to beam down."

"Sir?"

"I have business with Purple."

"Yes sir."

Then, after the warm feeling of being transported and the sickening sensation of molecular whiplash, they were standing before the large building Dwicky and his little band of humans inhabited. Pruple was the first to see them, and his eyes narrowed on Red. Alu walked off at once to greet Dib, and Tak followed him, warning him not to get lost, Mimi and GIR at her heels. Zim tucked his sketchbook under his arm and stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching, wondering what he would do that night, because he was probably not going to sleep.

He heard Purple whisper, "They went to the lab, didn't they?"

Zim stopped in his tracks and turned around. Both Tallests had their backs to him, and they could not heard his footsteps over the bubble of the fountain. Keeping his eyes tuned to them, he hid himself in the shadows and watched their figures in the moonlight.

"Yes." Red answered.

"They got the nanobots Zim had made for Tak, I assume." Purple folded his hands behind him, "Didn't they?" There was something almost accusing about his voice. Like Purple suspected Red had done something. Zim was not suprised, the two knew eachother like the backs of their hands.

Red was silent. He drifted away from Purple, and the second leader did not move an inch.

"Red." he said demandingly, "It _was_ the correct formula, yes?"

"No." Red eventually whispered, "It wasn't."

His co-ruler gasped and stepped away, and Zim could tell by his tone he was appaled with Red's deceit, but there was a chance for forgiveness. "Where is the _real_ one?"

"I... destroyed it."

To speak in Red's defense, he did not seem to be overflowing with pride. Zim crouched down by the wall so they would not be able to see him. He was angry that his work had been destoryed, and he would not be surprised if he faced punishment when he tried to make another batch of nanobots for Tak, but he was not going to jump out and _let_ his Tallests know he was eavesdropping.

"_You bastard._" Purple whispered in Irken, so the humans around them could not understand, "_You unforgivable bastard._"

"I know."

* * *

[1.] A set up for numerous jokes even older than "A priest, a minister, and a rabbi..."

GUYS I DON'T KNOW HOW TO END THIS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! META-MORPHINE IS GUNNA LAST FOREVER! NO! NO! I HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO WRITE! SO MUCH MORE THAT IS NOT META-MORPHINE!

What about Invader Dib? What about the special suprise I have planned? WHAT ABOUT DIVERGENCE! THINK OF THE TANGED FANS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!


	29. Chapter 29

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

Yesterday was Richard Horvitz's birthday. Watch me. It is nearly August. When September first rolls around, I will be able to wish Jhonen Vasquez happy birthday, too, AND THE STORY WILL STILL NOT FECKING BE COMPLETE!

Or, maybe it will be the last chapter.

Or, maybe it actually _will be done._

Maybe I will have Invader Dib up on September first, and I can wish him happy birthday there (because I know it would piss him off). Not like he reads Invader Zim fanfiction. I'd just do it... to have a reason to hurry Invader Dib along.

*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*

* * *

Chapter twenty nine: Severe Lack of Communication.

She felt wierd again. Flighty. Horrible. She tried to shake of the feeling that something horrible was going to happen to her, and just tried to enjoy herself, after all, it was a nice day out, but she could not. So she simply dealt with it. After all, even though Alu had chosen to foolishly explore a decaying building, she was not going to let him do it alone. That was too dangerous.

Of course, Dib came by to distract her, and she turned her back for _one minute_ and he had vanished! Completely! Even if there were only a handful of kidnapping suspects, and only a few possible locations, and very little chance of him getting lost, it was still unnerving to see just how fast he could get lost. Sometimes, she debated with herself on renaming him _Krishna_ he was so prone to mischief.

Maybe she was just in a panic because he was missing, and there were a million ways to get hurt in ruins. She kept her eyes peeled and her antennae attuned to any sound of shifting rubble as she checked every inch she could, and any child-sized nooks and crannys she came across. Fortunately, she had been given the liberty of an extended shore leave, so at least did did not have to attempt it in uniform. Stragely enough, the indestructable fabric was not conducive to the acrobatics required to keep up with a child so devilishly energetic as Alu.

She emerged into an open space now, where the ceiling had been taken off by some disater or perhaps just time. There were support pillars everywhere, and half of a wall. It must have been a large room, filled with light and large windows. She could see what was once a tiled pattern of the floor around a dip, like a indoor pond.

She felt dizzy for a second, and reminded herself to focus. She searched the open area for signs of him, and eventually found him perched, quite percariously, atop a pillar. That was on the edge of the building.

A good fatal fall above ground-level.

"How did you manage to get up there?" Tak exclaimed, half in a panic and stepping back. She could easily see ways up to some the other pillars_,_ by climbing a stone lattice work. But she could not understand how he had managed to climb atop the _one_ pillar of stone that was nothing short of solitary and with out support or access.

Or even why he would want too. It was a fatal fall on the other side, and a scuffed shoulder on the opposite side. If he was not careful, he would wind up dangling from the edge of the building, only to have it give way and...

She dare not think about it. Her mood was already quite uneasy. She had to get him down. The sooner the better. Was it just her head spinning, and her eyes going crazy or was the pillar close to falling over?

He just clapped in glee.

"You had outside help." Tak accused, "It was Dib, wasn't it? Don't smile like that, he wants you out of the way and you know it! It's time to get you down."

He was obviously interested on how she was going to manage this, she moved as close as she could to the stone pillar, and climbed up it using her spider's legs. Well, at least she had managed _that_. She gathered him up and jumped back down again, suspending herself and him a few inches about the ground with the metal appendages. She supposed she could scold him, but it never seemed to do any good. He was a horrible troublemaker.

"Crime is your true calling, isn't it?"

He would probably grow up to be a space pirate, attacking drug barons and merchants a like. Dashing and capable of winning anyone over with a bright, wide smile, despite the fact that he could not speak a word. Everyone would want him, be it for the reward, the glory, or the night in bed. And she would be the proudest gaurdian in the universe, because he _would not_ actually grow up to be a space pirate and whore. Just a pace pirate. Diabolical and could not give two shits about a pretty face.

Unless, of course, Dib had more of a hand in his upbringing than she thought. Which he did, the jerk, she just tried her best to remedy the human nature Dib would eventually bring out.

"Hey! I see you found him."

"Do you have any idea _where_ I found him?" Tak demanded, turning to the human in question.

"No."

"Up _there_." she said, pointing to the stone structure she had just retrieved Alu from.

Dib raised his eyebrows and frowned, then he knelt down and asked him, "How'd you manage that?"

Tak pulled Alu back and held him too her, answering sharply, "Well, let's see, that pillar's about eight and a half feet, and I know Alu is capable of lifting his own body weight. You're about six feet, and Alu is about three foot ten, more than enough to make up the difference. You give him a boost, he climbs up, you run off and you _both_ nearly give me a heart attack."

"Tak, why would I do something like that?"

"You're a sick fuck that gets his kicks from watching me freak out." she answered, "And you labor under the ludicrous delusion that you'll 'get more' out of me with Alu out of the way."

They both looked at her, frowning. She frowned right back. Of course, she could _never_ win when they _both_ looked pleadingly at her, but today would turn out different. That was for damn sure. She was not going to surrender to puppy dog eyes. Not even two pairs of them.

"I do not!" Dib replied, "And if I did, I would put him in the center, so he couldn't possibly be killed."

"Nonsense." Tak replied, lifting Alu up, out of Dib's reach. He sat back on his heels, slightly miffed with her treatment, but he was used to it. She could not feel too sorry for him when her head was pounding and reeling. He seemed to take note of his as he got to his feet.

"You feeling okay?" he asked, "It's not..."

"No." she said, staggering a bit, "No, I've told you, Zim and I have taken care of that."

She had to set Alu down for fear of dropping him. Her eyes began to hurt and everything went dark for a second or two. Shady. Like a dark glass was held above her eyes. Then everything was spinning and she felt as if her brain was shutting itself off. She was not normally one for fainting spells. What could possibly be wrong?

Everything was completely black for a moment, and the only reason her heart was not pounding was because she felt so relaxed and completely intune with the ground below her. Except, of courrse, that the ground _was not_ below her. It was several feet out of her reach. Yet, somehow, she could feel her life energy reaching down to the earth. Why was that?

_Wake up._ She told herself. _Get up. Stop this. This is stupid._

When she opened her eyes again, she was sprawled out across the ground, cradled in Dib's arm. Alu was looking at her from over his shoulder, both of them looked terrfied.

"Looks like he _did_ give you a pretty big fright."

"He is _so_ grounded." Tak joked lightly, a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath, "I think its the heat."

"Well, let's move out of the sun." he offered.

"Yes. That's a good idea."

But really, for some odd reason she wanted to stay _in_ the sun, and with the thought of moving into the shade she broke out into chills. She could not figure this out, but maybe she was more delirious than she originally thought. Her hand was shaking as she raised it to his shoulder to support herself as she stood, Dib saw this and frowned. Before she could attempt to stand, he hooked his other arm under her knees, hoisting her up.

"No walking for you." he said, "I don't think this is _just_ about Alu's little joke."

She looked down at the child in question. He looked up at her, worried. She gave him a reassuring smile and pulled him up beside her when she was seated again, and, so he was positive all was forgiven, ruffled his hair lovingly and kissed his forehead. When she looked up at Dib again, he was frowning, his arms crossed.

He was probably just worried about her. To lighten the mood she joked, "See, its glares like that that make me think you're jealous."

"Oh, insanely." Dib replied, smirking, "Hey, Alu, you wouldn't mind making yourself scarse for a minute or two, would you? You know, go get Zim to take a look at her?"

"Don't listen to him." Tak said, "You need a rest, too. Stay."

"Ouch." Dib grumbled, sitting down beside her and slipping an arm around her waist. She heard Alu run off as he did so, but she did not have the energy or will power to stop him. Intead, she found herself being drawn into Dib's eyes.

In a very lazy and pathetic excuse for parenting, she raised her hand and warned, "Don't go too far, now." but she was certain her personal Krishna was too far away to hear her. Dib's hand lazily ran up her back, until he reached the lower edge of her PAK. His other hand joined hers, and he moved closer. she tried to find an immediate excuse to get rid of him, but she could not manage one. He was not filthy, and they were — against all logic and odds — in a relationship so he _did_ have unspoken permission to do this, and damn it all he shaved that morning, so there was that old standby out the window.

And, to add injury to insult, she was not exactly unwilling herself. Still, she had a few more excuses up her sleeve. It was the middle of the day! "Stop it."

"Why?"

"Alu is here." She said, attempting to push him away, "And he's _impressionable!_"

"He's not even watching us! He's bothering Purple, about seven feet away."

"Purple!" Tak exclaimed, "I can't be seen cuddleing _you_ when one of the _Tallests _is around. Away. Now."

She could not do anything feminine in front of them. She dare not. Not any more. "Oh, come _on!_" Dib exclaimed as she nudged his chest. He held on persistantly, like he always did. She tried not to laugh, because that would only encourage him. He could not be encouraged.

"I mean it." Tak said, pushing him away will all of her might. "Down human."

She freed herself by jabbing a PAK leg into his side. He exclaimed in pain and jumped away, she straitened up her clothes and stood up in time to see Alu and Purple making their way towards her, the human was holding the Irken's cybernetic hand, and Purple did not look to horribly upset about it. He was not like _Red_, after all. He was the gentle one.

"Greetings my Tallest."

Rather awkwardly, Purple slipped his hand from Alu's and patted his hair, "Could you occupy Dib for a moment? I would like to speak to Tak alone."

"About what?" Dib asked, standing up, "Is everything alright?"

Purple turned to her and asking in Irken, "_You haven't told him yet, have you?_"

"_Of course I have._" she replied, "_He's strangely, shall I say, persuasive?_"

Well, it was good to see she was feeling well enough for snide remarks, if nothing else. She smirked and crossed her arms triumphantly as Purple muttered, "I see." But the look on his face clearly said that he wish he _did not_ see quite so clearly what she meant, "Dib, if you're so apt at information retrieveal, then give us a moment so you... have an excuse to practice your... human... methods later."

"If you insist." He shrugged, giving Tak a sly grin she shivered again, wondering for a moment if it was because she was strangely cold or because she was exited. He walked away with a slight wave and she felt herself growing a little embarrassed when Purple frowned at her.

"I would call you a disgrase, but I hold you in too high respect. A human! Really!"

"Well, you should have said something about it before! Besides, it's hard to leave him out... Physically _and_ emotionally, even if our relationship _is_ perpetually... rocky." She kicked a rock for added emphasis. "It doesn't matter now. I've had the nanobots in my body neutralized. If I take my reproductive system out, it _won't_ come back.

"About that..." Purple cringed as she had struck a nerve, and he sat down beside her, his hands nervously clasped in front of him, "Red has... Red has tricked you."

Was that cold blind panic or had someone just chucked a stone at her gut?

"What?"

"The nanobots have _not_ been neutralized." he whispered, "That is all I could get out of him. I..." he stopped standing on ceremony and started letting the emotion register fully in his voice, "I'm so sorry, Tak. I never wanted this to happen, even if it has to. I know what Red is trying to achieve, and it is a nice thought—"

"A _thought_." Tak said, "A dream. Nothing more."

She stood up and backed away, as if Purple was just a liar and in reality he could not _wait_ to force her to give up her body — give up everything! — for everyone else. Was she being selfish by saying no? Probably. Would she be so reluctant when her human friends were dead? Probably not. But she invisioned her body being torn apart by her own _children_ and it was terrifying. The thought that someone thought they could _ask_ she do this and still consider it a respectful proposition was laughable and sickening. Like it could ever be a descent proposal!

She had been all over the earth, even seen some of the _universe_ and it seemed that every where she turned, the female of the species was never _really_ equal. The male of the species just _had _to think he was in control or he just _was not_ happy. Even _Dib_ was subject to the basic truth. She had just learned to deal with it.

But she knew by the look in Purple's eyes he was not like that, "I just... though you should be informed that he replaced Zim's formula with... Well, nothing, and destroyed the original. So, whatever happens, you won't be too shocked."

"Oh. Thanks." Tak said bitterly.

"You're speaking to me like we're both heartless."

"_Red _is heartless. Guilt by association."

"He's offered you every comfort he can." Purple cut in.

It was true. She had been given every comfort imagenable. How many Irken soldiers had as much free time as she? So much reward for so little work? The privilege of keeping a nearly worthless human? Still, she could not tolerate that truth, so she spat, "Yes, and numerous, barbaric races gave sacrificial virgins every comfort imagineable before chucking them into a volcano."

"The planet I have chosen for you is _not_ volcanic."

She also was not exactly a virgin, but she was not about to shout something like that where everyone could hear them. "Oh, whoopdedo. I get an entire planet. Too bad I won't be alive to enjoy it."

"I know it's a lot to ask—"

"Maybe I just don't want to talk about it any more." Tak said, crossing her arms and turning around. She staggered again, holding a hand to her forehead to combat the feeling of her head swimming, "I'll _still_ have it removed!"

"But the nanobots programmed themselves, right? It will keep growing back—"

"THEN I WILL KEEP TAKING IT OUT!" Tak shrieked. She let it hang in the air for a few seconds, but she did not turn around again, for fear of falling over.

"I see." Purple said calmly. She heard him stand up and sensed him foating closer to her, "Feeling... Off, Tak?"

"Don't touch me." she said, "Just admit it. The two of you _didn't_ go to Earth to get Gaz and Dib. You came for _Gaz,_ alright, but not him. You came for Gaz and_ me_. Maybe Zim. You had the procedure for this little experiment set up, you had the planet chosen, you had everything figured out well before you got to earth. I'll bet you even devised away to make me complete even before you knew Zim beat you to it. It's the greatest thing _he's_ ever done, right?"

"We thought if one of you didn't work, the other would." Purple told her, "I know you're upset, and you have every right to be."

"Red wanted you to tell me this after Professor Membrane's funeral."

"Yes."

"And you chickened out."

"This is why. He just wanted you to be prepared for whatever the outcome was."

"But now he's made up his mind. It doesn't matter what happens, he still expects _me_ to have Smeets."

"Yes."

She was too dizzy to be angry. She was too dizzy to be scared that she was dizzy. What if it was because she had not gotten the nanobots deactivated in time? What if something was happening to her because of her reproductive system? She had to sit down again, her head swimming. "And I suppose he expects _Zim_ to suffer the indignity of making your genetic material suitable to merge with mine, after he tried so _valiantly_ to save me from this?" she asked sarcastically, "If Almighty Red hasn't figured it out already."

"Red assumed you would be too offened if _he_ was the only other donor." Purple said, "But at the same time he realized genetic diversity was just as important as keeping you content. It's not us because he's conceited. It's us because he wanted to keep this a secret."

She laughed roughly, "Keeping me content. Keeping this a secret. Nonsense. I feel like a whore."

And she already _knew_ that was not a good way to feel. She was having an affair with Dib, while, at least from a certain point of veiw, she was being courted by both Red and Purple. Red more than his brother, of course, but Red was a jerk. Not in the way Dib was a jerk. Dib was a passable jerk, like Captain Krik. No matter how much one disliked him, you forgave him time and time again because of his sweet smile and glittering eyes. Red was just a jerk. A jerk with a heart of jerk. And she would never freely agree to his demands. Really, for a comparison, _Dib's_ previous inconsideration could be attributed to youthful folly. Red's? Backstabbing power mongering and blind determination to strengthen the race, regardless of who was crushed to achieve that end. Even if it _was_ going to be at the end of her life, she was still angrly with him. Still, for some purposes, she could easily be called whorish.

"You shouldn't—"

"And I am _certain_ that is how this 'new generation' will remember me. A whore." Of course, Red would probably stamp out any stories of her relationship with Dib that he could, but that would not mean it was successful.

"Tak—"

"A human's lifetime may be long enough for you to _wait_." She hissed bitterly, "But it is not long enough for me to bear. Do you expect me to be happy, waking up every day and remembering each time I look at them that they will _die_ in such a short time, and knowing that _when they leave me_ I will have no reason to keep going? So you just expect me to _willingly_ go along with your plan for me?"

"Don't you think that's a lot of pressure to put on a man? 'Oh, by the way, I know its already going to do a number on your confidence that when you're in your no spring chicken I'll still look as young and fresh as a daisy, and when you finally do die of the inevitable old age that consumes your obviously inferior species, I'll be along in a bit, after letting my body be horribly torn apart by my own children on some remote planet somewhere so that I can free the Irken race.' You expect _Dib_ to he content to face that fact? Every day? He's still got a lot of life in him for a human? And what about Alu? He's a _child_. He barely even understand _human_ reproduction, let alone _Irken._"

"I didn't expect you too. Any of you." Purple said, "Red did. I'm sorry he did not see how unreasonable that demand was before."

She did not respond.

"I'll give you a moment alone." He said, "I've told you everything I can. I can see no matter what I try, I won't be able to comfort you."

_No._ She though, she had lost the will to speak, so she just thought spitefully, _No, you can't. But at least you are not trying to make me see reason, like Red._

Purple difted away then, leaving her alone. She let herself calm down by taking one shaking breath at a time. The dim, cool shade felt like frigid darkness, but her legs felt too weak to move, so she did not stand up and walk into the light, even if she was overcome with a strong desire to. It was almost like instinct.

Well, if it was instinct, she had best not do it. Anything that would sabotage her body's natural development, she would do. It was the only way she could save herself. Feeling a bit like a smeet, she curled her legs up and tucked them under her chin, wrapping her arms around them so they could not _possibly_ move and force her into the sunlight.

She did not want this. She never had. Never would.

She stared at the sun and wondered why it so easily called to her. She was curious, yet, terrifed of this pull of instinct at the same time. It was not a human desire. Not the same kind of desire that drew her to Dib or made her want to take care of Alu. This was an _Irken_ desire, her hands balled into fists, this was a desire to lay down in the sunlight and let time sweep her away.

Why did she want that? That was silly. She would starve to death!

But at least Dib would snap her out of a silly state like that. Or, maybe Zim would. Someone would, at least. Maybe Red would want to _keep_ her in that comatose state, but Dib would not let him. Dib would have _never _let Red get away with something so horribly evil as switching the nanobots with what might as well just been dyed plasma.

It might have even been the very genetic material that would come to germinate in her body. She found herself shaking uncontrolably then, and she buried her face in her knees.

No. No there was no way Red was _that _cruel. And how was it possible, unless of course he had been working on his _own_ tiny arm of robots that would carry the cocktail of genetic information through her bloodstream down to what ever Irkens had inplace of a womb, the likely hood of her becoming pregnant from a simple syringe was highly unlikely. Highly unlikely. Even if it was a lie she had to believe that. Red had told her he would at least wait until Dib and Alu were long gone. What would make him change his mind?

_Well._ She though bitterly, _The same thing that made him change his mind about letting me go if Gaz managed to fix Mothercontrol. He's a lying bastard._

_ I don't want to die. Not like that. I'd be surrounded by people that were just waiting around for me to die, so they could take my children and do the exact same thing to _them_. That's horrible._

She had thought that, if nothing else, Irkens were superior to humans because there was no sexual inequality, because it had been eliminated years ago along with the line between male and female. How horribly wrong she had been. How horribly _horribly_ wrong she had been. She had been all over Earth, and she had fought injustice, but she had never imagined she would come to face her own abuse and have no one to help.

She could run and run forever. She could hide and be found. She could stay here to face the enevitable, but who wanted that?

Dib would not stand for it. She could tell him about Red's thoughtless change of plans, and he'd be determined to stop it. But what could he do? Take her away? He would only live another ninety years, at best. Even then, Red would stop at nothing to get her back, because she was a 'valuable asset to the Irken race.' Tak scoffed. _Asset_ was just a politically correct term for _property_. The unforgiveable bastard. Was that treatment supposed to make her feel _special_? _Wanted?_

Even call-girls were 'valuable assets' to the streets they worked!

The sunlight was calling to her again. Her eyes could hardly keep themselves open. She felt so tired. Like she was slipping away. Why was she fading? She did not need to sleep. Not for at least another two weeks, and now, with her current state, she was not sure she would ever surrender to the need for rest. What if she never woke up? What if she woke up in pain rivaling a human's labor?

She shivered, still unsure if it was in nerves or cold. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to move into the sun. She was so damn cold!

_No. Don't listen. Don't move. Gaz managed to spend months in darkness. You can, too._

Her legs were aching. They were dying to move, even trying to do so on their own, and they were growing sore because she was fighting them so much. Was it all in her head? What if she stopped thinking, the only resistance she had left? Would her nervous system take over her body when her consience failed? What was going to happen? Was she just being paranoid?

She felt an invisible hand on her wrist. It was pulling her forward, forcing her legs to move as she walked towards the sun. Was she going crazy? Strange, insanity never seemed to peaceful from the outside. Maybe her mind really _was_ shutting down. That was the only explaination. She tried to stop herself. She tried to turn around, but it did not work. It could not work, it seemed. She could not even control her body enough to avoid tripping over the rubble that was in the way. Why was she seeking out the sun?

It felt magnificent against her skin, and all of her worries were washed away. This must be what a morning glory feels like when the sun's first rays strike it. The slow march towards the sun continued, until she was standing in the middle of the open area, where no shadow could ever touch her in daylight. She looked down at her hands and could see the skin darkening. Perhaps it was the sun going behind a cloud. prehaps it was the same dark shade that had overcome her vision so long ago.

_No._ _Don't leave. The light can't leave._

_ What the hell am I doing out here?_

She could not breath. Her throat was closing up. But she did not feel like she was indanger of suffocating. Her eyes were ceaseing to work, but she had not gone blind. She could see everything clearly, she could simply not comprehend it. Her skin seemed to be growing stiff, while her muscles were relaxing. Her hands were not shaking. Her heart was not pounding.

But she was still terrfied.

Was this really the _end_ for her? What had Red done? Grow so angry he had poisoned her? What purpose would that serve?

The last thing she felt was the stone against her side and arm as she fell against it, her eyes focusing on the sun.

Some one screamed her name.

* * *

OH NOSE! Was it something Red did, the sly bastard?

Don't worry, guys, we're all going to get happy endings. Just... one step at a time. One... _gruleing_ step at a time.

*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*


	30. Chapter 30

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

Oh my _GOD_ so much has happened between this update in the last! I've barely had time to get my head on strait! I have just been accepted into the college I wanted (It would have been done ages ago, but the college in question is fairly incompenent and did not have the common courtesy to look for my SAT socres, when I sent three time, butoopsimranting.) so now I have until the seventeenth to get all of the nessicary shopping done, get a meningitis vaccination, submit the housing application, apply for classes, and JESUS FUCK how am I going to manage that in so little time?

And shortly after that, Invader Johnny poposed that we do a collaborative work for Invader Dib, making Meta-Morphine a sequel to his fic Downfall, by exention. Now, now, don't fuss, I'm sure there are plenty of you out there that wanted to take my collabroative virginity, but so far as collabs so, we've only gotten to first base and so you'll all just have to put up with Invader Johnny's collaborative sloppy seconds... And I am certain he does not approve of this metaphore.

Also, I am doing my part to remind/inform everyone about Project Massive. Anyone who wants Invader Zim to be picked up again, write a letter to Nickalodeon Studios, and anyone who doesn't, send a letter saying you do anyway, just to be nice to your fellow IZ fans. I know I'll be sending one.

* * *

Chapter thirty:

"Tak!" Dib exclaimed, running forward, "Tak are you okay?"

She did not move. She lay there, paralyzed against the stone. No one could blame Dib for panicking. He should have stayed with her. He had seen she was not feeling well. Why had she not told him what was wrong? Did she love him or not?

Maybe not even she had known it was this serious. Did something Purple say have a profound effect on her? That idiot! Had he not _seen_ the state she was in?

"Tak!" he called again, falling to his knees beside her, scraping a hole in his jeans. Her eyes were filled with fear, but her body was as relaxed as it could be, and for once in his life, she was heavy. Maybe it was because he was terrified of loosing her, so his mind tricked him into thinking she was quickly becoming dead weight, or maybe it was because he was shaking like crazy. "Tak, say something."

For a second or two, her eyes focused on him. Her mouth moved, as if to say his name, a plea for help, maybe forgiveness, maybe mercy. The only noise she made was a faint sigh, though, rasping and pained, as if her throat were constricting. Her hand tried to move to her neck, but it hardly moved, then the fear in her eyes increased. Now she was realizing something was horribly wrong, but she could not say a word. Maybe she even knew what needed to be done, but she could not tell him!

"Tak!" He shook her again, this time with more force, more desperation. It only seemed to cause her pain. Which made her afraid. "It's going to be okay. I promise, it'll be okay."

She was trying and failing to manage a smile, not because his words had no meaning to her, but because she just could not move. Dib forced himself to calm down and think rationally. He could not do much, sure, his bedside manor was great, but he was not really a doctor, now was he? No. He was not. Zim knew something about this. Zim could help. Zim could always help. The day Zim was unable to help was a dark day indeed, "Just stay with me, Tak."

Her eyes lost their life and her head fell back. Then she went cold and stiff, like rigor mortis was setting in. "No!" Dib held her wrist, trying to feel for a pulse, and to his reliefe, there was a faint beat. It was soft. Barely there. He let her hand fall and held his ear against her chest, trying to find her heartbeat. It was just as light, more like a moth than a heart.

Was it possible to preform CPR on an Irken?

How would he tell Alu abou this?

"Don't touch her!" he heard Red exclaiming, "Let her go at once!"

"But—"

"Let her go, Dib." Zim shouted, grabbing his collar and pulling him back. Someone else had grabbed Tak's shoulders, forcing her to be ripped from his arms. Zim practically jumped over him so he could exaime her body. It was Purple that was holding her up now. He was furious and terrfied at the same time, and Dib felt a brief flicker of remorse for thinking ill of him. If it _was_ his fault, he had not done it out of spite.

"You gave her something, didn't you?" the Irken accused, looking past Dib to Red. He scrambed to his feet and turned on the co-leader of the Irken Empire, asounded, expecting so see some triumphant smirk and and evil laugh, but his face was expressionless. His mouth was closed and his hands were folded behind his back.

"I did what I felt was best."

"You thought _rushing_ this was right?"

"I said _best_." Red showed little signs of anger, "I never said it was _right._"

"You—!"

"I don't have you here to preach morality to me, Purple! You're idealism is a nice refresher, but it holds no baring in reality—"

'Just what the _hell_ did you do to my girlfriend?" Dib demanded.

"Silence!" Red turned to him. He raised his hand abruptly and Dib staggered back. Getting smacked by Red was like getting hit with a solid steel rod, according to heresay. He ducked out of reach as the claws cut the air above his head. He stayed down as he backed a few steps away. The Irken leader was ranting on in his mother tongue, and from the appaled gasp Zim made, Dib was pretty sure he should be thankful he could not understand what was being said about him.

"Red, don't take this out on him!" Purple shouted, "He's a human—"

"Is he really so self centered that he can't understand how important it is to an Irken to save his race?" Red roared. Dib stepped back again, his fear responses kicking into overdrive. "Don't humans have the same desire? Or are the thoughts that cross his mind really so basic? Is he so obsessed with—"

"What did you _do,_ Red?" Purple demanded.

"I gave her something to speed any possible tranformations along. Nothing more." he said with his hands folded behind his back. The Irken leader had composed himself again. At least he did not look insufferably pleased with himself, or smug. His face gave nothing away, maybe a little anger when he looked at Dib, but that was to be expected. There had always been tension between them.

The human straitened up and walked back towards the three Irkens, Purple was frozen completely still, as if his only purpose in life was to hold Tak's shoulders up. Zim had taken a medical scanner out of his PAK had had fit the screen over his eyes, and it was giving him numerous life-readings, bleeping occasionally, most likely echoing Tak's heartbeat. He was tapping a button at the right side, switching from systemm to system, checking everything he could. He was muttering to himself in Irken about his findings, leaving Dib clueless.

"H-how long can she stay like this?"

"As long as she needs to." Zim answered, "She's switched over to photosynthesis."

"Irkens are capable of—?"

"Yes, but not in the capacity _she_ is." Zim answered, "We can go for at least a week or two with out eating if we don't expend ourselves too much. But her? This is amazing! Everything unnessicary just shut itself down..."

"Her skin's secreting something." Purple oberved. Dib knelt down and he could see that her skin was beginning to look moist and shiny.

"Irken equvalent of a chrysalis." Zim said, "Perhaps a cocoon. Take off her clothes."

"What?" Dib and Purple asked in unison.

"They are interfereing. With as little information I could find, this... _stuff_ should harden and turn a translucent white or light yellow. It will be some of the strongest stuff in the galaxy, so she won't be unprotected. The clothes will be ruined if we didn't, and the more sun she gets the better."

Dib reached behind Tak's neck and unsnapped the haltertop she was wearing, It was sleeveless, so Zim did not have to struggle much to get it off of her. He tossed the discarded clothes beside him and removed the bracelets from her wrists. Just as he had said, the clear gelatinous substance that had grown quite thick by that time on her skin was hardening and turning a pale white.

She turned her head to the side and Dib could have sworn she looked at him for a moment, but then she looked at Red and appeared as if she was about to cry before closing her eyes and curling up.

"Whatever is happening, she's stable. Set her down."

Purple's hands were stuck where they were, but after a little effort he managed to pull away from the solid white shield and laid Tak down on her side, curled up in the fetal position. The three of them picked themselves up and turned to Red. Dib expected some kind of awkward, guilty silence to follow in the Tallest's part, but he regarded them just as aloofly as he had before, "The miracle of life, gentlemen. Zim, I want you to take readings on her daily. I will send a few sentries down to keep watch over her. There is no point in debating this any further. What is done is done."

With those words, he turned around and floated away. _Then_ there was awkward silence. Dib stood there, his eyes focused on Tak, trying to to let the dispair and uncertianty get the best of him. He could not clearly see the expression on her face now, the dried covering obscured most details, but he ewas certain he would never forget the look in her eyes before she had closed them. This was not what she had wanted. this never would be. It was evil of Red to force her to do it. It was horrible.

He should have tried harder. He should have done more to stop this. The moment he had been told, he should have started work on on of the smaller ship and had taken her away the first chance he had.

But now it was too late.

Now he could only wait.

"How long will this take?" he asked no one in particular, "Years? Months? Weeks?"

"One month, give or take a few days." Zim answered. He did not sound too sure of himself, "Or, it could take centuries—"

"_Centuries?_" Purple exclaimed, aghast.

Zim lost it.

"This was not Zim's idea!" he exclaimed, "Forgive me for not inventing a time machine and going back and studying more completely, I was wasting all my time trying to help someone you didn't want me to help, I could just as well be mad at _you_ for not telling me you were going to take my hard work and destroy it!"

He got to his feet, ripping of the medical eyepiece and storming over to Purple so he could glare at him, "What I had to go on was literally only half an inch thick. I read it in ten minutes, most of it was hearsay, and some of it was just faded artwork! There was no scientific description of the process, there was simply one poem based on what I sincerely hope was a grossly exaggerated legend about a female who was refered to as Phal ne who was so damn timid she spent three centuries in this state, which could have been useful if it were not nausiatingly emo and only half there, and with how scared Tak is don't be surpised if she emerges long after the four of us are dead!"

"I wasn't the one that did that." Purple said softly, retreating in on himself, "I didn't mean to snap at _you—"_

Zim shook his head, "No, my Tallest, it was completely my fault. I'm sorry."

He stepped back and looked towards Tak, who remained frozen, then to Dib, who was rooted to the spot, his eyes on the white figure. He kept expecting her to move, to realize what was going on and stop herself. But of course, she never did. She would wake up when it was time, and the Irkens would have knowledge of their race that they had lacked for generations.

"Come on, Dib, we need to explain this to everyone."

But he did not want to move. He wanted to stay there forever. He sighed heavily and looked at Zim, who seemed to be regarding him with the highest of sympathies, "I'd rather remain up here."

"Nothing is—" Zim started, but he changed his mind. Turning away and starting to walk, he said back, "If you want. You can't stay up here forever, of course."

He started to walk away then, and Dib sat down beside Tak's body, just staring. She would be furious with him if she found out, but Dib was fairly certain she would _not_ find out, because what was the likely hood of her suddenly developing ESP? Dib chuckled weakly and tried to find the humor in it, but it failed him. He tucked his knees under his chin and wondered if she would still be herself when she emerged again. What if the transformation wiped her memories or took away her voice? What would he do then?

He was lost in the sunlight and the silence, and there he remained for a good while, just staring at Tak's body curled up and gleaming in the light. It was too bad he _could not_ stay up there forever, at least until she emerged again. Maybe Irken females were hardwired to fall madly in love with the first living thing they saw—

_Dib you jerk_. His conscience told him.

_I know_. He replied. _I know._

He sighed and wished the stones were a bit more comfortable, or that the sun was a bit less glaring, but he knew martyrs were not exactly given vacations. Of course, he was no martyr, and she was no where near waking up again. He was just staring in disbeliefe. It was too bad Zim wasn't there to track him through the seven stages of greif.

What was next? Anger? Or was it bargaining?

Was there nothing he could do?

"It's good to see you again, Dib!" came a voice from his left.

Dib looked up from his brooding, "What?"

"It's good to see you again."

Again? What were they on about? Dib looked from one to the other and frowned. They looked back, as if expecting more of a reaction. He had a breif feeling of familiarity with them. Not much, not for too long. Really, they were indistinguishable from one another, they looked exactly like all of the other Meekrob he had seen in his lifetime. Dib wondered how the Meekrob managed to tell one member of their species from the other. He looked from the Meekrob floating on the right, to the one on the left and and could not feel a thing, or even. He just stared rather blankly, wanting to ask if they knew the solution to Tak's problem, but also certain that was not why they were there.

"You... You don't recognize us?"

"No." he eventually said, feeling fairly stupid. When he sensed they were resentful, he tried to make it up to them, "I was thirteen when I last saw a Meekrob, and even then, you all kind of look the same to me."

Actually, they kind of looked the same to everyone. Being a being of pure of energy did that.

The two Meekrob exchanged a glance, "But we... We're Herr and Fry. [1.]"

"Oh!" Dib exclaimed, "You two!"

"Yes." the second (Dib recognized him as Herr, but by his voice alone,) "'Us two.'"

Dib grimaced a little at his tone, and looked down at Tak again, for some sort of comfort and encouragement, when he looked back, Herr did not seem to frustrated any more, "What are you two here to talk about?"

"We're here to talk about your powers, Dib."

"You're not here to take them away again, are you?"

"No!" Fry said, "Of course not! _This time_ we _are _sure you're old enough to handle them!"

Herr's eyes narrowed a bit, and he gave Fry a wary glance, as if to say, 'Actually, we _aren't_.' But he kept quiet about it, much to Dib's gratitude. He had been insulted enough today, even if most of it was in a language he could not really understand. What little warmth Dib had felt with the interaction vanished again with the memory of what had transpired just a few minutes ago, and he resumed keeping vigil over Tak.

"But only with _training_." Herr said insistently.

"I'm pretty sure I've used them before—"

"— But you were never aware of it." Herr corrected, "Each time you _truely_ tapped into your full potential, you were blacked out, only half-aware of what you were doing."

Dib turned back to them. Of course they were right. They were Meekrob, being right was engrained into their genetic code, right up there with being made of carbon-based plasma and glowing blue.

"Your sister will be ready to tap into her powers with in a few days. If you like, you may wait and start your training along with her. You may also start early. Either way is fine with us."

"I'll just start with her."

He was not in the mood for learning. Not really. He wanted to avoid it at all costs, because just thinking about using his powers again scared him. What if he went crazy again and caused mass panic and destruction, like he had on Dirt?

Of course, there was not much else he could do. He hoped they got the message of 'Leave me alone to mope in peace.' but from the persistant blue glow beside him, he assumed they either had not, or were ignoring him ignoring _them_. He continued to sulk, wondering how long this battle of wills would keep up, and who would win, the nearly immortal beings that did not reguire food or sleep, or the meger human.

Herr moved closer to him, "We know what Red is planning to do with the female. You can't stop it, but you _can_ alter it."

Dib laughed bitterly, "How can I change it when I'll be dead?"

"What if we tell you you won't be?" Fry asked.

"Huh?" Dib's head snapped back towards them, "What... What do you mean?"

"You're immortal!" Fry shouted, throwing his slim hands in the air and grinning.

Considering the majority of bad news that he had been faced with, Dib was not sure if she should be terrfied about that news or exited. On the one hand, Tak would not out live him, on the other, he might wind up out living her, which was just as bad. So he turned to them and asked, "Are we talking _metaphorical_, 'go down in history' immortality, or pure and simple immortality?"

"Actually, its more of a longevity type of thing." Herr corrected, "But—"

"I'll live as long as she will? What about Gaz? She won't age, right?"

"Only very slowly."

"About how much longer than normal do we have?"

Neither Meekrob showed signs of answering. Dib was unsure if it was because they did not know, or if it was because they did not want to risk telling him and distracting him from his every-important training. Dib waited for a while, and eventually gave up, "So, you're saying I'll be able to heal her when the time comes?"

"Yes."

Dib had thought of that before. Hell, he had thought of it a million times before but he had always thought he was going to be dead, so he had never bothered to say it out loud. He had not wanted to get Tak's hopes up or seem like he was taunting her with a future that could never be, but now he knew he _could_. He would have to prepare himself mentally, of course, from what Tak seemed to believe the arrangement was like, he would have to act fast and he could _not_ be distracted by gore.

"Okay, never mind." he said, standing up, "Train me now."

They seemed to be smirking. Their pale eyes narrowed and their symblances of mouths stretched outwards. They even _floated_ a little higher, "We thought you'd see it our way." Fry said, triumphantly, "Start by moving that rock."

Dib was not exactly sure what he was talking about, so he was mroe that grateful when Herr interrupted his companion, "No. Let's start by reviewing what we know. Dib. What do you know about your own powers?"

"Well, I know Gaz's powers..." He started, of course, they had not asked about that. Still, he continued the train of thought, not sure where it was headed. "Sort of. She's a technopath, right? Like Tak said. Maybe one of us can see the future, Mom could. And I remember what I _used_ to be able to do. You know, move things and stuff."

"'Move things and_ stuff_?'" Herr repeated, "_Stuff?_ You don't recall flight? Photokenesis? The ability to heal yourself and others within seconds?"

Dib frowed. He could remember all of that. Even the ability to cause mass destruction. He had been a twelve-year-old nuclear bomb. Before, that had been a point of pride for him. Now? He was a little ashamed, and if it meant her would not lose his near-immortality, he would gladly give his abilities up. He shivered, "I... I remember."

"You're frightened." Herr said knowledgeably, "Of your own powers."

"Yes."

"You're worried." He added, "That what happened on Dirt will happen again."

Dib did not answer. He could not answer in good concience. In truth, he did not remember much about that. He remembered... Blacking out... Being crazy... A cripling fear. Being posessed by this terrible drive to destroy everything. He had stamped it out when he had lost his powers and had spent a while on Earth again _not_ being revered as a hero. Or maybe he had made it up and had begun to believe it so that is would never happen again.

"You nearly killed your own sister."

"I know." Dib replied, "You don't have to remind me."

"No." Fry said, an edge to his voice, "We're here to train him, not bully him."

"If we had trained him six years ago, we would not have this problem." Herr said flatly, "But that is your fault, just as much as it is mine."

They both agreed to let the argument rest, and each floated to opposite sides of him, he walked away from Tak (because there _could not_ be a training accident that hurt her. He would never be able to live with himself.) as he could be.

"Move closer to the shade." Herr instructed, "It will be easier to see that way."

Dib did as he was told, picking his way through the ruins into the shade.

"Let's see how much you remember." the more collected of the two told him, "Light the darkness."

"Just that?" Dib asked. Herr frowned at him. Dib shrugged, and feeling very much like God, he said with a little smirk, "Let there be light!"

And there was light.

It radiated from his hand and spread out into the darkness, casting crisp black shadows over every crevice and crack. It was a faint blue in color, and warm against the skin of his hand. It could blind anyone else, but not him. Perhaps it was his healing powers, constantly negating any damaging effects the light would have on him?

Herr sighed in frustration. Fry laughed. Dib paused to wonder how they had known enough about human culture to be annoyed and amused, but desided not to pry to much into it.

"Splendid." Herr said, "Now make it go away."

Dib's smirk transitioned from smug to uneasy quickly. Making it go away, that was something he had always had a little trouble with. _Alright, you_. He though, closing his fingers_ Out you go._

Nothing.

_Come on. Out._

The light slowly faded.

"That was great!" Fry said encouragingly.

"That was good enough." Herr corrected, "For_ now."_

"Oh, hush!" the second Meekrob retorted, "He did quite well for his first try. He hasn't had these abilities in, what, six years? Cut him some slack."

The last time the cut him slack... Well, anyone could see how that turned out. Dib frowned, and visibly cringed with Herr's next instruction, "Now concentrait the beam and hit something. See if you still remember how to shatter stone."

Dib gulped.

"Well?"

But he really did not want too. His hands began to shake and he remembered seeing the wreckage that had surrounded Dirt when he had been brought back into the atmosphere. He gave Herr and Fry uneasy glances, but neither one seemed to pick up on his hesitation.

"O-okay."

He focused his mind, closed his eyes and held up his hand.

And was suddenly over come with crippling fear. He could not see a thing. It was all darkness. He could not even comprehend who he _was_. Then he heard screaming. At first he thought it was himself, but he realized it was from someone much younger. His first through was that he had accidentally hurt Tommy or Dexter or one of the other human children, but when he tried to open his eyes to see who it was he _still _could not see a damn thing.

Then he became detached from the pain and his own body. He relaxed he realized it was_ a memory_ of his own screams as a child. Despite the racket, he felt an overwhelming and unfailing calm spread over him. Eventually, the white light became colored lights and he realized he was staring up at the Meekrob's sky. His two teachers were standing over him, frowning.

At least, he _thought_ that was what that expression was. He was laying on his back, with a host of small stones pressing into his skin, but some devil seemed to have placed them there for the _sole_ purpose of pointing into every pressure point, but he could not actually feel the pain of their persistant stabbing. He got to his feet again, and expected his hands to be shaking after such a harrowing experience, but he was not. He felt fine.

"Lets try that again, huh?" he said dusting himself off.

"Are you sure?" Fry asked.

"Positive."

_I won't be scared._ Dib told himself as he exteneded his hand again and focused. This time, he was slightly more successful.

* * *

[1.] Invader Johnny, why did you not name then Fry and Laurie? As in, 'A bit of Fry and Laurie.'

-Forget it. Johnny, I'm making up a Meekrob and I'm naming him Laurie. Infact I already have! That Meekrob that showed up a few chapters back? He is now named Laurie.

So, yeah, I think that collab with Invader Johnny is pretty much official. Any one who cares to, go read his fic Downfall. I'm sure it would mean the world to him if you did, because for every review he does not get, I will talk to him about Bollywood, makeup, clothes, and other girly things. Which will make him very, very unhappy.

Besides, if you're actually waiting for us to get our in gear, we might actually get off our collective ass and get to colaborative second base.


	31. Chapter 31

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

I think I got a dorm. Maybe. Possibly. If I pay two hundred to complete my dorm application and I can't for the life of me figure out how to do that so I'm going to do it in person at some point.

Because conceling thinks I'm a transferring sophmore and housing things I am an incoming freshman.

Sooooo... I'm kind of required by housing to live on camups but the online program won't let me because I'm a sophmore and I am SO FUCKING confused right now.

Because my day was built around commuting Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don't really need a dorm.

And I really wish it would rain.

* * *

Chapter thrity one: A history lesson.

So it was _not_ a lie.

Gaz stared blankly at the white, vaguely Tak-shapped heap before her, speachless. Zim stood back, obviously bitter about it. She did not move towards him, or away. She could not. She was completely frozen. She heard Mr. Dwicky and Tommy walking behind her, they came to a stop at her left, and the pair adpoted her look of lost gaping.

Zim crossed his arms and stalked up to her otherside of her, scowling, while they continued to stare. Gaz kept expecting her to move, to do something. Anything. But she did not hear a sound her see her move an inch. She eventually knelt down to get a better look. Tak's eyes were closed, her face relaxed, unlike anything Gaz had ever really seen on her. That translucent white shell was no where near coming off.

Sitting back, Gaz sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, wondering what they would do.

Four Irkens and a SIR unit beamed down at that point. The sentries arranged themselves that the four cardinal points, after shooing the little group well out of arm's reach. This forced Gaz back quite uncomfortably, because she had not been given proper standing time, so she fell against the smaller stones, one of them digging into the palm of her hand. Zim and Tommy helped her to stand, and she glared furiously at the sentry.

"I'm sorry, Miss Membrane." He said under her intent gaze, "Orders were to keep the area clear."

Gaz sighed and stepped back. She could not rightfully _be_ angry at something only two and a half feet tall. It just was not possible for her. She could not be upset with anything thats height fell between GIR and a grown child. They seemed to helpless, which was not actually true by any stretch of the imagineation, but Gaz was human and inclined to make human mistakes.

The SIR unit perched on the stone just above Tak's head. It was, as anyone would assume, Mimi. Her red eyes snapped abruptly to any movement, including Gaz as she dusted herself off. Fortunately, the SIR unit made no threatening moves. Gaz doubted she would, anyway. It was all posturing. She might even come _down _with a little prompting. But that begged the question, who would Mimi obey now that Tak was temporarily out of commission?

Her? Maybe. She _was_ the technopath, so maybe she would with a little pursuasion. Possibly Dib or Zim, they were closer to Tak than she was. It could not be Alu, he could not talk. Gaz sighed again, who was going to look after him? Not Dib, he was not exactly the most responsible party, even if he was the favored one.

_Oh,_ she thought, _that is one of those things that will sort itself out._

But, where _was_ he?

Gaz realized suddenly with a bit of remorse that he had probably run off again and was waiting for Tak to find him. Why did he have to think that life was an endless game of hide and seek? She turned around and looked for him, but did not see him. Come to think of it, he had not been around when Zim had delivered the news. He probably had not heard about it.

Sighing in frustration, she walked off, looking everywhere and wishing she had Tak's tallent for finding him. She did not, of course, and never would, probably, because she had ears, not antennae. Yes, she had phychic powers, but they were not exactly child-care based.

"Why does he _never _learn?" she grumbed to herself, looking around the ruins of the first floor. She had moved from the lighter area to the darker side now, and was just coming around a corner wondering if she should be calling his name or whistling for him like a dog (she knew how obviously wrong that was, though, so she did not) when she heard someone shout, 'Let there be light' and the stone just about a foot and a half away from her chest was suddenly destroyed by a powerful blast of light.

She dove for cover under some convient rubble, but when she poked her head out again, she saw her brother, starring at his hand, which was glowing faintly. She could not hold herself back, "Son of a _bitch_, Dib, _look_ where you're aiming!"

"Oh! Gaz, I didn't see you there."

"No-oh-oh shit Sherlock!" she replied, walking towards him, reapeating angrily, "'Let there be light' Dib, I think you're due for a few more counceling sessions with Mr. Dwicky."

"Hey, you have _no_ ideahow much I have to resist saying, 'Let there be light, _bitches._'"

"That's stupid." Gaz replied, frowning, "Couldn't you just say... you know, _nothing_?"

"No!" Dib replied, insistently, "Where's the fun in that?"

"Really, Dib, I'm looking for Alu and you're _scewing around_."

"Sorry."

"Shouldn't you have a Meerkob supervising you or something?"

"Well I did, but they both left. You know how they are."

Gaz crossed her arms and put all of her weight on one foot, "Oh really, now? Dib, you're girlfriend's in a coma? Don't you think you should be a little less... you know, _happy_."

He laughed.

"Jesus Dib! You've lost it, haven't you? You're completely flipped."

"So they haven't told you the news?" Dib said, reaching for her.

"W-what news?" Gaz asked, stepping back, "Don't touch me. You're crazy."

"We're nearly age-less super humans."

"How long have we actually got?"

"I don't know, they won't tell me, but you'll live at least as long as Zim, I'm positive."

She eyed him suspitiously, waiting for the news to soak in, and wondering if it ever would. For good measure, she stepped back again, just waiting for him to tell her he was joking and then blast her to bits, and wondering _why_ she half expected him to do that. Regardless, he did not, and she was left still pondering the news he had given her.

She was... nearly ageless? Able to live as long as Zim? That was great news. Wonderful. But it made her sad, at the same time. At least five human lifetimes, maybe more, hiding from empires and space criminals that would use her powers for their own gain. If she stayed on Meekrob, where she was gauranteed safety, she would watch Dwicky die, and the others. If they left decendants, she would watch _them_ die, too. And that would be heart breaking. And what about Alu? He could not live forever, either. If they left, they would have to leave him here, to live out his comparitively short life with _other_ short-lived beings.

"Gaz?"

"I'm just thinking, we'll out live all the other humans, won't we?"

"...Yes, I've thought about that, but its really better _not_ to."

Gaz frowned at him, unsure if he was best not to or wrong. Eventually, she gave up on that too, and tried to be happy with the sole fact that Zim would not have to live hundreds of years mourning her death. For a little while, she was. Then, she rememebered Alu, and told herself that she would have ages to celebrate near immortality. Right now, he needed to be told about what happened to Tak.

"Well, see you."

"No, no, I'll come with you. I know him better than you, after all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he likes high places. He's a great climber."

"I see." Gaz grumbled, adapting her search pattern to include high and low hiding spots, then she asked, "Any particular _reason_ he acts like this?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." Dib answered, hands in his pockets, "I'd ask, but I know I won't get an answer."

"You'd _think_ there was something that could be done about that."

"I know. I think she had _one_ doctor back on earth look at him."

"And he said?"

"I dunno, she wouldn't tell me, but I'll bet he said trauma."

"Any particular reason?"

"Well, isn't that what they all say?" Dib replied.

She would not know. But it was probably what their Dad would have said, in so many words. Gaz pushed a stray hair behind her ear. It could do with a trim, she noticed, but knew there was not really a place to _get_ a trim at the moment.

They continued looking, but a great deal of urgency was lost. They passed Zim and the senturies a second time, and Gaz waved, trying to call him over, but he remained, staring angrily at her body. She gave up quickly after that, and she had her brother decided to climb up to the level above the one they were standing on.

It was a struggle to get up, but they did eventually manage it. Gaz wondered why they would bother with it, but Dib kept insisting that they check, just in case.

"If no one's seen him for about fifteen minutes, he comes out of hiding, but only if he's not _trapped_."

"He's _trapped himself_ before?" Gaz forced out as her brother pulled her from the makeshift stairway of stones to the upper level.

He was not exactly a very bright kid, was he? She thought herself as she scrambled to her feet and dusted herself off. There were not many places to look up here. Unlike the other level, this one was supposed to be open to the sun. There was one more structure, though, this one like a little shrine.

And Alu was sitting before it.

"How does he _do_ that?" Gaz asked, "It took us _ten minutes_ to get up here, and _he_ some how managed it with out anything."

"I told you he was really good at climbing." Dib answered, "I mean, he is _really_ good at climbing. I don't know if its because he's really strong, or really lightweight, but he is _really_ _good at climbing._"

"But that's crazy! No kid is _that _good." Gaz replied, crossing her arms.

"Fast runner, too. Kid's made for hiding." Dib said with a little grin. He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and walked forward, coming to a stop beside Alu. Gaz watched, not wanting on interrupt, but at the same time wishing things could speed up so the related and justified tears could be shed as quickly as possible. Eventually, though, she gave in to the little urges and sat down on the other side of Alu. They all three sat in silence, Gaz expected Dib to break the knews, and he might actually expect _her_ to do it, but she was pretty sure _Alu_ would not be the one to break the ice.

Strange how the little idol seemed to be a Meekrob's take on Budda, there was even a shallow dish where incense would be placed and burned. If she thought about it a little it _did_ make sense. Sort of. One of the principles of Buddhism was to gradually give up your earthly attatchments right? Who was to say that after years and _years_ of rigorous adherance, it had finally happened? They had given up _all_ earthly attatchments?

But... What if she was mistaken and that had nothing to do with Buddhism?

... And what if it was just a really weird coincidence?

Gaz stared at it for a while longer, frowning, then she heard Dib speak, "Hey, kid."

Alu turned to him. Dib opened his mouth to speak again, but he closed it with a heavy breath. He raised his hand and rubbed his shoulders, "Hey, remember that time, Red came to Tak's room? Kicked us both out?"

Alu nodded slowly. Dib pulled him close, "You need to come down and see her." He did not quite seem to get it. Dib got to his feet and said softly, "Come with me."

He did not move. Gaz stepped forward and laid a hand softly on his shoulder. She had barely touched him, and he had run off. They both screamed in alarm as he jumped from the higher ledge to the lower, and Dib wasted no time chasing him. Gaz followed, but she slowed down at the edge, not feeling quite up to her fullest that day. The shoes she was wearing probably had something to do with it. She cursed herself for not having proper running shoes. All they Tallests had taken from Earth were her boots, most of which were either combat or high heeled. Really, if she stopped to think about it, she should curse _herself_ for only being five feet tall, and therefore needed all of the help she could get, height wise.

Instead of replicating her brother's reckless stunt (she could out do him another day.) She climbed badk down using the stack of rubble they had made to climb up in the first place. It was tedious, but it avoided hurting her ankle. She flowed slowly, telling herself that from now on she was going to go barefoot because the weather was not made for heavy boot and the scenery was not made fro heels. Eventually, she found Dib and Alu, huddled to gether before Tak's body, the high the Meekrob had given her brother was gone now, and he had hit rock bottom again.

While she could not actually see was was wrong with this turn of events exactly, she did not blurt that out. It would be rude, too rude even for her. Besides, they were too busy crying to listen, and she did not truely have the entire story down like the back of her hand. Yes, Zim had dropped once or twice that Tak was becoming all female, but he had failed to tell her why that was such a horrible thing, but she knew he would not sulk over nothing, and Dib would not be so easily worked up over that _same_ nothing, so there must be _something_ worth getting emotional about.

She was honestly more interested in that shrine on the floor above. It was not that she did not care about Tak, it was just that she knew there was nothing any of them could do aside from wait and waiting was only productive if you conserned yourself with something else. Besides, she could leave now, Alu knew what was going on. Sort of.

What was it Dib had said? That Red had gone into Tak's room at one point and spoken to her alone? Gaz had never remembered that, of course the Massive was entirely soundproof, but it proved that Red and something to do with this. She had no reason to think anything bad of him, if it were not for the Tallests, she would be the centerpiece of a lovely war. Perhaps Red had just told Tak what was going to happen to her, and had neglected to tell everyone else.

Well, that was _kind_ of a bitch move, but Gaz would let it slide. Perhaps he thought it would happen twenty years down the road, or that it would only happen in theory. He had not _meant_ to leave everyone else in the dark.

Still, she felt really left out.

But Gaz was not actually conserned with that. She was watching Alu cry over Tak's body and she could not help but feel terribly sorry for him. She contemplated the _nature_ of their relationship, and wondered if it was more of a brother-sister dynamic or a mother-son. It was just plain wierd because Tak had _never_ struck her as the maternal type, but watching them together had made her wonder time and time ago how she had not gathered an intire collection of international orphans. Really, Tak had seemed more likely to _stuff and mount_ said collection when she had first returned to Earth.

And she was still not really sure what caused the change.

She walked away again, back to the stairway of fallen rocks and climbed up it, heading back to the little shire to examine it more. She was no expert on the subject, but she would say, looking at the small structure, the design could be compared to a hash of human cultures, but perhaps the _human_ cultures were really decened from this one?

It really was expertly set up. From simple observation, she could see that the sun was going to set driectly below the small structure, and it must have been quite a sight, in the old days, because directly behind the statue was a stain glass panel or the richest hues Gaz had ever seen.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the old pendant she had picked up a few days ago, comparing it to her Mother's necklace. No matter how hard she tried, the skulls would _not_ stop looking identical. Her mind was going crazy, simultaneously trying to confirm and deny the validity of her stupid 'Space Gypsy' theory. And she could not manage it.

"I see you have found the true purpose of this building."

Gaz turned to see a Meerob standing behind her.

"Now that you've discovered it, you have questions, yes?"

"Y-Yes." she started, "But I'm afraid I don't know what to ask first."

The Meekrob waited. Gaz managed to remember enough of his voice to assume he was Herr, and she knew that her questions were in the best of hands. Herr seemed to know everything there was to know about the Meekrob with out going to the big man himself. She sat down and held the pendant up, "Did your race have any influence on mine?"

"Yes." Herr answered, "A small portion of us did."

"And they brought Buddhism?"

"Not exactly. That is a bizzare coincidence which can easily be attributed to reincarnation."

"But, it does suit you, you see."

"Indeed it does. We are a race of what you could compare to Buddhists, for your convenience."

"How exactly—"

"Any history book will tell you, that millions of years the Meekrob were capable of building great weapons, stunning archetecture, and unthinkable technology. We were a race of super-beings. But our planet was dead. It was nothing like what you see today, lush and full of life. It was entirely paved over and the atmosphere was depleated. It was a hard face to face, but we knew science could not save us. Our atmosphere could not support plant life, and there was no other planet with a climate that suited us.

"The desire to live, however, was still strong, and we grew to believe that the desire lead to suffering. To end suffering, we though, we had to end this desire to live. Being a race of strong menta capabilities, we found this was easy, and soon our bodies were dying off, while our souls lived on in a kind of... living Nirvana. Now, we live forever. Any Meekrob you see today has lived for millions of years."

"But that doesn't explain—" Gaz started, indicating her own pendant.

"There were some of us." Herr continued, "Who believed that life and the afterlife were best kept separate. They left of their own free will to find another planet capable of housing us."

"And they found it on Earth?"

"A race of primitive beings inhabited it, but their numbers were so few that instead of anihilating them, they chose to live amung them, sharing the knowledge they could and destroying the technology too advance for the race to comprehend. It is because of these Meekrob that your race survived the harsh ice age."

"And they identified with a symbol like this?"

"Yes." Herr answered, "It is good to see that your race is returning the favor."

"Oh?"

"After millions of years, it is good to see life return to this planet." he said, turning to the fields, "I don't like to be a slave driver, but they do need you down there."

Gaz laughed, "Okay, okay, in a moment. It's really difficult to get up here with a regular body, you know?"

"I can imagine." he said dismissively, "And imagine only."

"And what are we going to do about _my_ planet, huh?" she asked.

"Everything you do here is part of a small recolonization effort. In fifteen years, when the radiation has lessened enough for us to be able to shield you from it, we will return there, and collect the surviving humans, and place robots made to cultivate the land and clean up any hazarous materials on the surface. In another fifteen years, when their job is done, the human population will return."

"Oh, so, they _will_ live to see Earth? Not exactly at its _best_, but Tommy and the rest will see it?"

"Certainly."

"But, from the way it seems, any technology you have, though well a head of its time, is millions of years old, and grounded to the planet. You don't have robots, where do you expect to get them."

"Either from Irk or from Vort, which ever race wishes too. Most likely Irk."

"And why would they?"

"You have any idea how deep in debt they are?"

"Pretty damn?"

"You have any idea how much this planet's natural resources are worth?"

"So, why are you bartering your planet for ours?" Gaz asked warily, "Humans won't be rubbing elbows with Meekrob for the rest of eternity, are they?"

"Well." Herr remarked before teleporting away, "You obviously can't take care of yourselves, can you?"

"Oh, I guess you're—" she realised that last sentence had been a blatant insult, "Hey!"

She heard a voice from the ledge, and she stood up to see who it was. It was Zim, using the PAK legs to scale the pile of rubble with much less difficulty than she or Dib had. "Is this where you've gotten, too Gaz? Who were you talking too?"

"A Meekrob." she answered, pulling him up. Judging from the obviously forced smile, he was not really in the mood to know about what they had discussed. She walked with him back over to the shrine, but he either did not care, or was in no mood to notice.

Gaz took one look at him and knew it was the latter of the two. Perhpas it was because he was constantly reminding himself of her short human lifespan? She tried sharing the little information that had made Dib so much happier previously.

"The Meekrob think, Dib and I will live for a lot longer than the average human."

"O-oh?"

That did not cheer him up. She was torn between hugging him and shouting at him, but she knew he was going to be one carrying her, so there was no point in showing her anger. She let it die and held him to her. The Irken trembed a little, and did not return the gesture, "Zim, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

_Damn_ he was getting sloppy with his lies! She was upset, but she did not push the subject further, because she knew that Zim was not going to yeild, regardless of how much she pried. Hell, she could even give him a little feminine pursuasion, he would take it, go to _town_ with it, and still keep mum. If only it worked the opposite way, but even if she did not put out, he would not gave in. In fact, it seemed to torment _her_ more than it did _him_. One week and she would miss his affections so fierecely, she had to go crawling back to him.

And he would smirk, say that he loved her, and _still would not tell her what was wrong_. Nerves of _steel_ these Irken soldiers.

"Zim?"

He did not respond.

"Zim, what is wrong?"

Not even a little _flicker_ in his eyes. Gaz frowned. He was pretty bad off, then. _You know, idiot, maybe I can help, _she thought to herself, wondering that if she tried really _really_ hard she actually could go on a romantic strike long enough to get him to confess.

She could always beat it out of him. However, that would involve seeing him injured, and she did not like to see that, regardless of how withdrawn he was being. She gave up and leaned against him, teasing the base of his antenna with her fingers. If nothing else, it would put him in a lighter mood. Or, at least a slightly less _misrable_ one.

He smiled and slipped his arm around her waist, laying his head on her shoulder. Mission accomplished. Sort of. Half of it. Perhaps she she could try hypnotism. Hypnotism? Maybe not completely, but a stab at using her powers against him was with a shot. He _did_ have a computer strapped into his back. _Perhaps_ she could get the _computer_ to submit to her will. _That_ was worth a shot.

But, of course, it would have to be done while he was asleep. And she could not bother to wait for the night. No, that was far too long and her curiosity was close to killing her. She had learned, over their time together, how to make him fall into his half-sleep. It was a fairly simple task, just a rythmic stroke of his lower antenna and he was out in five, maybe seven mintues, and half of the fun was that he was completely unaware that she _could_ do this.

His eyes closed completely and his body grew lax against hers, and he began to drift away. Smirking triumphantly, she lay her hand against his Pak, moving in a circle. Then, softly, she whispered to him, brushing her lips against his skin as he slept beside her. "Tell me. Tell me what is wrong. Zim, what's troubling you?"

She heard him sigh and remark sharply, despite his closed eyes and dreamy tone, "Gaz Temptress... if you're attempting to use your powers, it won't work."

Ouch.

"Screw you, Zim." she said lovingly, "I'll get the the hang of it someday."

* * *

Oh my GAWD if this does not end soon I think my head will explode.

*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*

And I'm driving up to said college tomorrow to sort this dorm-room fiasco out. If I can't get it sorted out I don't know what I'll do.

*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*headdesk*


	32. Chapter 32

Meta-Morphine.

(Diclaimed)

CHEDDARBISCUIT GOT TO HER DORM AND SHE COULD NOT GET THE INTERNET TO WORK. CHEDDARBSICUIT IS NOW UPLOADING HER FICS IN PUBLIC PLACES. AAAAAAH!

Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho- it's going to be HELL sharing a bathroom with three other people but I'm so exited!... Only now I have to figure out what I'm going to do with my three days off. Aside from, you know, write fanficiton, work on my knitting, (it's not like I can take a sewing machine!) and not do work.

But at least that means my readers will not suffer because of the system.

And maybe the dorm internet will be, you know, dependable.

Also: There is a young lady/man that keeps leaving reviews as 'InvaderVyn' and I have questions: You submitted two reviews for chapter 31. How did you manage this? Why did you bother? Will you chill, dude? It's been a little difficult these past few... um... Days? When things settle down again, I'll be working like I normally do.

And while I'm adressing semi-anons: NachoTaco: I'm sorry my language is not tailored to your phenomenally weak constitution. And I am also sorry I am too nice to post a huge rant.

* * *

Chapter thirty two: He's a villian for a good reason.

She was getting better. Zim _hated_ to admit it, but she was. Much better. Worlds better.

And it had only been, what, a _week_ under training? It wasn't even really _training_ it was more a series of daily lectures on theoretical technical manipulation.

But she was already causing trouble. He woke from his half sleep to find that Gaz had gotten him to tell stories about his younger, wilder days, while the rest of their little community sat around and _gawked_. Like he was some sort of _puppet_! No one could look at him with out bursting into a fit of giggles any more, it seemed. As much as he would like too, he could not be too mad about it. It was mostly his fault, anyway. He _should_ be telling her what was troubling him, that his emotions might go away when she reporgrammed Mothercontrol. He just was not. And one of these days she was going to get it from him and she would be damn pissed when she did.

He sighed heavily and stared down at the prototype robot dismantled and spread out before him on his workbench. Why did the Tallests suddenly feel the need to assign him to every task the Meekrob passed on to them? It was not like he would feel any emotional connection to Earth when it was restored, and it was not like anything he ever made worked anyway.

Well, okay, sometimes they worked. Sometimes. When they were _allowed to be put to use_.

He sighed again and tossed up a wrench letting it spin a few times in the air before catching it in his hand. His expression could be easily described as complete boredom. And he was bored. Very bored. And very nervous. But at least he did not have GIR to annoy him. Or Gaz to distract him.

Distracting, distracting Gazelene.

"Squeak."

Zim fell down into the chair his second servant had faithfully nudged behind him, sighing again in frustration and boredom.

"Squeak."

"I _know_ I should tell her."

"Squeak."

"You know prefectly _well_ why I won't!" Zim exclaimed. "That's just not the kind of thing you _tell_ a person... But its not exactly the kind of thing you leave them in the dark about, either."

Minimoose squeaked again.

"I won't let it change anything." Zim said, "I'll still know who she is. I'll remember what happened between us—"

"Squeak."

"I won't _let_ them take those memories away!" Zim said stubbornly, "And why would they? I've got no emotions, what are a few memories going to be?"

"Squeak."

"Yes, I suppose they _would_ confuse me, but what purpose would removing them serve?"

"Squeak. Squeak."

"Well maybe I don't _want_ to serve the empire any more." Zim said, tightening one hand into a fist, "At least, not Red."

Then he stopped talking, because he knew the office was bugged and Red was probably listening in. He frowned and leaned his elbows on the table, looking at the electronic bits that he was supposed to be turning into a farming robot. He knew enough about the subject now to know how it was supposed to work in theory, and he had gotten the inintial programming done, but he was not really interested in working with his hands much any more, unless it involved working on Gaz.

"Just because I won't love her any more, does _not_ mean I won't take care of her." Zim said, "Besides, they'll need at least _one_ Irken with the Earthlings to insure everything keeps running properly, and I'll be damned if its _not_ me."

With that little bit of enouragement urging him on, he started working again, trying to let the work distract him from reality, but it hardly worked, and when it eventually did, the door opened, distracting him from his work. He looked up and saw that it was Red, and his temper flaired at once, but he did not say anything. The only thing he did was give his Tallest a death glare, which he had no intention of really following up with death.

When he saw his sketchbooks in Red's hand, he stopped glaring completely, and stared, dumbstruck. "I never took your paintings from the surface." he started, "And for good reason."

His heart started pounding, slowly, "You _are_ planning on wiping my memories, aren't you?"

He just nodded slowly, and Zim felt like punching Red in the face. Hard. Hard enough to knock him out of that suit he wore. He kept his hands on the table, and resisted the over whelming urge to throw every tool with in arm's reach at his leader.

"You think I deserve that?" Zim asked bitterly, "What else, are you going to fix the glitches in my PAK, too? make me a part of the hivemind you detest so much?"

Red did not say a word.

"Why have Gaz around to fix Mothercontrol if you're just going to use Tak anyway? Why do you have to _use_ people like that? What do you hope to gain by going down two paths that just contradict each other? Why not just leave the PAK-bound Irkens as they are? You don't plan on making a slave army of us, do you?"

Red kept mum.

"What?" Zim demanded angrily, "What? What is it?" he snatched away one of the sketchpads. He kept rambling on, despite that he knew it was wrong. "What? Are you going to force me to make _propaganda posters_ to keep this slave army in line? A sexy pinup of Tak or something, with a caption that reads 'Serve the Almighty Mother of your future'? [1.] Should I get started on it right now so the image of her is still fresh on my mind? Or shall I wait and let time erase her flaws?"

Red flinched a little then. Zim saw it, but he could not tell why he had done it and that just frustraited him even more. He wanted to strike a nerve. He wanted to get mad and he wanted to bring any confession or reaction out of Red that he could. He had to. His nerves were screaming. On _Earth_ blatant and cruel manipulation was sincerely looked down upon. What Professor Membrane had done to keep him save had not been blatant. It had simply been.

"What's you're edge?" Zim asked, stepping around the table so he could look his leader dead in the eye, close enough that he could see his own reflection in the ruby sphere, "It's like you've got some sort of personal gain planned for yourself? What's your angle?"

Red grew visibly angry. Zim smirked as he drifted back. He had an angle. He was doing this of a reason and it was a reason he did not want Zim not know. Maybe he was not as sefless he wanted everyone to think. What could he have in mind? Replacing Mothercontrol with his own contious, and letting the hivemind spread his will, so _he_ would be the one controlling the universe?

No. No, that was crazy. Why would he _force_ Tak to complete her transformation if that were the case? it was completely unnecessary He was covering all the bases. He wanted to make _damn_ sure the Irken race would survive somehow, regardless of what hit it. This over precaution was not actually a common trait in Irkens, even though Zim was prone to over planning and having as many extra plans as possible, but that was because he was a defect. He was a faliure, and he was so afraid of messing up he _forced _himself to be damn careful. What could make Red do that? Fear? What would make him that afraid? Even if their Empire was in the face of great physical and finantial crisis, Irkens did not feal fear.

_Normally,_ Irkens did not feel fear. These were not normal times. No, Mothercontrol was malfunctioning, and that had thrown everything off-kilter, even Red. He was feeling emotions, just like everyone else. It was making him fear faliure, because he was so damn percariously perched. He was a figure head that had suddenly had the carpet swept from under his feet, and now he could see through the glass floor below him to all of the trouble going on below.

And yes, yes that _was_ scary enough to shake even Red, if he was dealing with emotions for the first time, which he pretty much was. Perhaps he was just trying to assure himself that he _could_ lead their race, that he _coud_ make his mark on the history books as a leader that had managed even in this kind of crisis.

Zim felt a little sorry for him, then.

The Tallest's hand tightened on the sketchbook and eventually he tossed them at Zim's feet, and they fluttered down, like he had broken them after a particularly grueling interrogation ceremony. As the pages fell open to two separate drawings of Gaz, Red made a noise in contempt. Zim looked up at Red and frowned angrily, "What?"

Red replied cooly, "Destroy them."

"What?"

The tallest did not even flinch as he repeated, "Destroy them."

"Why?"

"Would you like me to go behind your back again?" he asked dryly, "I was _going_ to give you the dignity of doing it on your own. An Irken has no use for art. Destroy them."

"Why would you ask me to do such a thing?"

"It will be much better for you, as a soldier, if you would not remember Gaz. It will be much easier for her to accept that the relationship is over if you don't appear to remember her. We will wipe your memories, so that when Mothercontrol is repaied, your usefulness will not be compromised by you memories."

"But... what about Gaz?"

Red did not answer.

Zim asked again, "What—about—_Gaz_?"

"Those who cannot find a way, will just have to accept things the way they are."

"Red, you can't do this to her!" He started to float away, Zim followed angrily, "Red!"

The door slammed infront of him and sealed itself. Zim stopped, unablt to open it on his own. It got the message across. He was not to followed Red. He was not to question Red. He knelt down to pick up the other two sketch books, but found that he could not bring himself to touch them, for fear that against all odds Red had rigged them to explode the moment he did.

He summed up the courage eventually, and picked them up, tucking them away with the first. He walked back to his work bench and pushed the robot's pieces aside so he could open the first collection of sketches and look though them, one by one, as if he could ingrain and image in his psyche that the Tallests could not remove with a fairly basic procedure. He knew there was no point, though. He did not nave a soul to imprint upon.

"Oh, Gaz... Gaz, I'm so _sorry_ Gaz."

He _couldn't_ destroy these. He _couldn't _let them take away his memories. He just could not do that to Gaz. Only _human_ males threw their partners away so coldly. That would be too disrespectful. To horrible. He _loved_ her. He had spent to much time on these sketches, so much time with _her._ Times they would never get to relive or remake, should his affections stop. Times she could only remember with bitterness and sorrow, times he could not revist with curiosity. No, no that might mean the race _learned_ something as a collective hive, and that could never actually happen, could it?

No. No that would just make them _too_ good.

Minimoose came to rest beside his hand, "Squeak?"

"What choice do I have? They are my leaders?"

"Squeak." Minimoose told him persistently, "_Squeak_!"

"Talk to... ?"

Zim slammed the sketchbook closed and gathered them up. Minimoose was right! Hell, he was more than right he was brilliant!

He would not let Red push him around like this! There were _two_ Tallests. They were supposed to rule together, and any choice made by one _should_ be completely approved of by the other, and Red was not exactly letting Purple in on everything, and Zim _knew_ they did not agree completely. Ever. Maybe Purple was a weak leader, but he _could_ find the courage to contest Red's choices. What else was he _around_ for, if not to give his own opionion. Zim _would_ get that opinion out of him if he had to beat the green tar out of him to get it.

He found Purple at the bridge, it was mostly empty, with the exception of a few essential officers. Purple was looking over some sort of record, Zim did not bother to ask, or even wait until adressed. All he did was blurt out, "We need to talk. Now. Please."

Everyone turned to him. Zim became aware of the horrible shake in his voice, but he did not say another word, and he did not let the shame show in his face. Purple set down the document and got to his feet, "Come. This way."

Zim followed him out of the bridge to the Tallest's private suite. Fortunately, Red was not there. With only handmotions, Purple indicated a seat which Zim could take. While he did this, Purple went over to the cabinet and took out two glasses an an unlabed bottle of wine. At least, Zim assumed it was wine. Looked like wine. Smelled like it.

"Don't fell obligated, but you look like you could use it."

Well, if he was not _obligated_. Giving it a clear look of distrust, Zim set the glass of wine down and focused on Purple, as if awaiting orders. He did not actually know what to say. To start slandering Red infront of his brother would be rude to say the least, even if that was really, _really_ what Zim wanted to do.

Purple sifted uncomfortably, "This suite is not bugged." he said, "You may speak plainly, but I already_ know_ what Red has told you to do."

"Then _do_ something!" Zim found himself shouting, "You... You can't do this to us. Think about all Gaz has lost, all she'll never be able to get back."

"Red knows what he's doing—"

"But you know its wrong!"

Purple shook his head, "I don't have a better idea." he said calmly, ÒYou know me. I never do.Ó

"But my _Tallest_—"

"Stop it!" Purple shouted, "I'm not some infallible deity, don't treat me like I _am_!"

"And what about _Red?_ Is _he_ infallible?"

"Zim, don't." He stood up, "If you like, you could give one of them to me, and claim you destroyed all of them." He frowned, "Of course, I wouldn't exactly be able to _lie_ if Red confronted me about it, but... that _is_ an option... Just, give it so someone you know won't give you away. I'm not telling you to do it, I'm just suggesting it."

"A-All right."

"Who it is, if you deside to do it, which I don't actually reccomend, but whatever, will have to be trust worthy, and they can't tell _you_ where they've hidden it. Irkens do not know much about memory, after all, but if you accidentally stumble upon it, it _might_ even bring your memories of her back."

Before Zim could say anything hopeful, Purple cut in, "Of course, thoes memories will be useless with out your emotion, but perhaps you can figure out something now that you are not constantly moping." he grinned a little, "Don't you have robots to play with or something?"

"Yes sir." Zim got to his feet and saluted on habit, nay, on _instinct_! It was an act of subsurviance he cursed himself for, if only for a moment.

"But, Zim?"

"Yes?"

There was a twinkle in his dark eyes as he looked at Zim over the lip of his wineglass, "When you _do_ destroy thoes sketchbooks like Red told you to, don't do it when I'm at the helm tonight, surveying the planet. You... You know how much I miss... I'm not _perfect,_ after all."

"Of course, my Tallest."

Zim was not sure if he had heard what Purple had said correctly or not. Was he _enouraging_ Zim to use the same underhanded means that Red himself was using, albiet in a sarcastic manner? Or was he honestly warning him against deviance. He wanted to believe it was the former but was fairly certain it was actually the latter. Still, he_ would_ be deviant and he _would_ entrust at least one sketchbook to someone else, the question was _who_. It could not be Gaz, that would raise too many red flags. It could be Dib, but he would be too keen on bringing his lost memories back, and like Purple has said, it would be more likely to work if he accidentally found them.

He could not hide them himself, if Red was around when the technicians wiped his memory, he would see where it was hidden and remove it. It had to be someone who would not say a word about it and would not care either way.

The answer would come to him. Right now, he had to determine which two to destory. He couldn't leave all three laying around. If Red desided to watch survellance footage on the massive, he had to see Zim ruining _something._ He would need an extra notebook.

He had made it back to the lab, then, and realized he had notebooks to spare. Professor Membrane had left him at least one or two. He stopped his tracks and looked at the black box. He had promised he would never let her go. He had promised he would always look out for her.

But to put on a show for Red, he said out loud, "I'm sorry I can't be with her forever, like you wanted, Professor."

Then he walked into his office and sat down at his desk, the notebooks infront of him, pretending to sulk. Red had this office bugged, he may well have cameras, so just switching the notebooks was out of the question. It would be too obvious, depending how closely Red studied the footage, and maybe Zim was just being paranoid, but he would not put it past his leader to actually _obsessively_ watch footage.

All of this was just wasted paper. There would be no re-filing headache should he do something like —just perhaps— kick over the desk in a feigned fit of rage, right?

But he could not do it so soon. He had to pretend to dwell on it alittle more. He searched through one of the sketchbooks, trying to determine which one he should keep. Each one balanced more innocent pictures of Gaz along with... less innocent ones. The more recent one had pictures of everyone, but he saw no point in confusing his futureself by including pictures of anyone but Gaz. So, that was the more recent one out. It was such a shame good work had to go to waste.

He set it aside and looked at the oldest one of the three. When he got to the fourth page, he smirked. Yes, this would leave _no_ questions in his future mind who Gaz was the the past they had shared.

Enough pretending to sulk. It was time to get started. It was not hard to work himself into a rage. He just thought about the very _idea_ that Red would attempt to separate him and Gaz and he was angry again, his hands shaking like crazy.

_BANG_!

With a scream of rage, he had kicked the desk over, the chair rollling back, but he caught himself on the wall by reaching behind his head. He watched the loose papers flutter down for a second, stopping to catch his breath and stop trembling. The sketchbooks had been lost in the storm of pages, and Zim wasted no time making sure they stayed lost for the time being. Still pretending to be furious, (it was alarming and frightening how easy this fit of rage came to him) he wreaked his office, cursing Red and even insulting Purple at one point, so he could at least try to convince him that Purple had not given him any help.

He pulled over the row of black filing cabinets, trapping his oldest sketchbook under neith and letting the other files fly out on to the floor. It was the only way he could be _sure_ it stayed there. The only ones who could get into his office once he had locked it would be Red and Pruple, and they would not be able to lift it, even together.

When it was done, he stood in the center of the mess, searching and identifying his sketchbooks. They had been left where they had fallen. He breathed heavily for a moment, and desided that it would not actually be over-kill to pretend to _faint._

He took the fall easily, and his hand came to rest on a fourth notebook, he could feel the wire binding against his last finger. He wanted a while, about ten minutes, before picked himself up agian, pretending to be physically worn and he drew the notebook to him. There was no time to see what it was, and it was already in the Massive's computer system anyway, so it did not matter. To keep the Cameras from seeing what it was, he held it to his chest and dragged himself to the over turned desk, picking up the other two and curling up with them.

It was not actually hard to pretend to cry, either.

When it was hidden behind the two other sketchbooks, Zim snuck a peek at the notes he was going to be destroying. The ones on cloning. Good. No one would miss those, and even if they _did_, this was the best way to make sure no one ever had to go through what Gaz and Dib were going through again. He would have to delete the soft copies later, but he _would_ delete them.

If he was given the chance to remeber it. All of this raised the question of just how much would Red find the technicians had to erase. He had stuidied a great deal of human culture with Gaz (Gaz had been the one to really introduce him to human culture) so she was integral to a great deal of the human knowedge he had. If Red was going to erase her completely, he would have to erase all of that, which would mean that _somewhere _there would have to be a copy of his memory disk, even if it was edited to take out the more intimate moments.

He scrambled to his feet, searching in the mess for a clean sheet of paper. He had to write that down. He had to tell himself in the near future to find that disk and re-copy the data into his PAK, if all other methods of remembering failed, but it had to be hidden somewhere he would only ever accidentally look.

He had made schemes before. How difficult could it be to contrive away to _show_ Gaz how to make him remember her if all else failed?

Leave the information in GIR's head. Leave the information with GIR and leave GIR to Gaz. If she did not shut him off forever she was _bound_ to look around in his head at least once or twice a year. Or maybe Dib would. Someone would. Some one would find the note and they would give it to Gaz.

He righted his desk again and sat down with his pen and paper. It could not be a digital note. It had to be _real_. Both of them could be destroyed, but with paper, at least there would be ashes. Something digital could be deleted. A voice recording could be made, depending on where he was. He opened the drawer to his desk and took out just such a device. It was always good to have a back up, and a back up for your back up. Even a genius like himself could never be too careful.

He set the recorder aside and continued writing out instructions for Gaz, but crumpled it up again because it was all 'ifs' and he knew that Gaz was going to be too emotionally distressed to be satisfied by its. She would want clear-cut answers, something to cling to now that he was gone.

He felt a stab of guilt and sadness again. Gone. Gone was a terrible word. Gone and could not remember was even worse. Much worse. Worlds worse.

He would not be gone, he reminded himself, he would_ find_ away to remain.

Perhaps, because Irkens in their intended form were beings that relied on _logic,_ he could just leave a note reminding himself who Gaz was, presenting a reasonable argument for remaining with her, and assuming that emotions and fellings really could not be taken away, he could _make_ himself fall in love with her all over again.

Gaz was a technopath.

Zim's hand stopped in the middle of the argument and grinned.

She could do that all on her own.

* * *

[1.]And how many of you want to see that propoganda poster?

... On our dorm room doors, there are color paper name plates. I want to make mine say 'cheddarbiscuit.' All lower case. All one word. This is the one and only way to spell the name of cheddarbiscuit.

And when they ask "Why?"

"Bitch, I'm cheddarbiscuit."


	33. Chapter 33

Meta-Morphine

(Disclaimed)

InvaderVyn: I was not accusing you of being mean. Far from it. I was just so impressed by your eagerness, that is all. But seriously, dude, relax. I will always update this story.

Nacho Taco: I actually can't be mean to you, believe it or not. My roommate knows my pen name, what fandoms I write for, and the existence of FFN. She effectively has me by the balls and the fact is, I like her more than I want to bitch at you. Fall to your knees before the pursuasive power of cheddarbiscuit's roommate. (And I'm having such a good time in college I don't actually feel like it, anyway.)

Depression hurts, like I said. Zim just needed a little bit of enouraging happiness to realize what needed to be done.

* * *

Chapter thirty three: In its proper place.

Dib saw stars for a moment as he fell to the ground. He landed on his side, but it was only about a ten, maybe twelve foot fall and thoes did not hurt him any more. Fry told him he coud fall from the roof of the temple and be fine, but he was not about to test that theory. He pushed himself up on his eblows and brushed the stray hairs from his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." he said, turning over and sitting up, "I'm invincible, remember."

"Don't let these powers go to your head." Herr warned, "Again."

Dib looked up at him and frowned, "Yes sir."

"But that was much better." he said in a lighter tone, "You managed to remain in the air for twenty minutes. Very good, considering you have not been able to get off the ground for at least a week. Something just distracted you... No, don't tell me. I already have a basic idea of what it was."

"Don't rub it in." he said, dusting hims shoulders off. He felt a slight pain in his wrist and cursed himself, holding the injured joint in his other hand. He had thought about Tak for _one second_ and his concentration broke, and that was weird because Tak was one of the few things he could think about for hours on end and not be bored.

"Ha. Ha." Herr said blandly, "You're smitten. Be very grateful that it takes more than a fall to kill you."

"I am."

"Try again." Herr instructed, "And this time, make sure your head stays clear."

"It was clear for twenty minutes, you said so yourself—"

"And the fact that you are now healing your wrist proves that it was not good enough."

Dib, for lack of a better option, stuck out his tongue. It was only for a breif two seconds, because he _was_ sticking his tongue out to a being that could beat the crap out of him despite the fact that it had no body. He continued to rub his wrist, willing it to repair itself. Eventually the mild pain went away and Dib was left with a healed wrist and a miffed teacher. Herr rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, but other than, "Try again." he said nothing.

Dib crossed his legs and closed his eyes, willing his mind to be cleared. He had gotten pretty good at the mind-clearing bits, it was just the_ staying_ thoughtless that got him each and every time. Interestingly enough, to clear his mind he just remembered Mrs. Bitters class. It worked like a charm, of course, it filled him with dread and one central thought:

_Doom... Doom... Doom... Doom... Doom... _

But he had done this exersice several times this week and he had failed to cause destruction, so he was fairly certian it was a safe method.

_Doom... Doom... Doom... Doom... Doom..._

Eventually the chant slowed down and quited and Dib was left with nothing. He felt his body rise of the ground, but he managed to keep himself from actually thinking about it. It was an interesting state of mine, do say the least. He was acutely aware of everything that went on around him, but it was on an uncontious level. Contiously, there was nothing. Just... nothing. The backs of his eyelids. Silence.

And no, it was not particularly _easy_ to maintain.

_Doom..._

_ Doom..._

_ Doom..._

He suddenly heard Tak screaming in pain. He saw his hands glowing and covered in her blood, trying to heal her, but he could not repair the skin fast enough. He was losing her. He saw red-eyed smeets crawing out of her, tearing open more skin that was nesscary, one even bit at his hand, but he did not care, even when the sharp little teeth cut through part of his arm, because all he could think was_ She's going to die. SheÕs going to die. I can't save her._

And then he thought, _No, not that again!_

Once again, he it the ground, hard. He heard and felt his shoulder pop out of place. Cursing repeatedly, he rolled over on his back. It was not scary so much as it was annoying, he had been getting interrupted by the same damn vision time and time again. It was like... _annoying_. Like, really, really fucking annoying. Like, if instead of turning to the darkside, Anikin Skywalker had grown a pair and just took Padme to some childbrith classes and he was _still_ getting the visions of her dying in childbrith, even though he _knew_ it was not possible for her to die in child brith because he would be in a safe, knowledgeable hospital instead of some godforsaken mining planet. [1.]

He had stopped swearing now, because being compared to a Skywalker was practically an insult at this point, and he was only adding fuel to the fire by swearing. He poped his shoulder back in place and chalked it up as one more injury he had recieved today and started to heal it.

"What did you see?" Herr asked, "This was the first time you actually _shouted_ during your fall."

"A really bad Star Wars reference." Dib said through the pain of a dislocated shoulder. It was _not_ fun having joints repair itself. There was really bad swelling around the injury now, and he could not do much about that aside massage it away. He could not focus at all with that much blood just floating around out side of vessals and capillaries. The skin had begun to darken to red, and eventually it would bruise. He had not managed to find a way to relieve swelling yet, so he did not even bother with it.

"... What?" Herr replied.

It was probably best not to explain in terms of Star Wars, so he just said, "I see Tak, and she's dying." Dib said, "But I know that's stupid. I've saved her from death once, I can do it again."

"Are you so positive?" Herr asked, "You never actually did it? Your powers did it for you. You have no idea how to tap into them, yet. This is why you must train."

"Then shouldn't I be focusing on healing?" Dib asked, "What good is flying going to do me when tiny Irkens are trying to devour my skin? And donÕt give me something cryptic."

"Dib, I can't believe you just said something so _stupid._" Herr said sharply. Dib jumped back, "You do realise it will be very hard to focus when the time comes and the smeets _are_ trying to eat you, which they _will be._ Yes, Tak will probably be in a comatose state, but —You've never delivered a _human_ baby, have you?"

"Um, no. That's kind of a wierd question."

"This will be just as harrowing, if not more so. How can you focus on _healing_ at a time like that, if you can't even focus on levitation now?"

Well _shit._ How could he have opened his mouth and said something that dumb? Dib looked glumly at his injured shoulder. "I'll do what ever it takes." he said, "As long as it does not involve, you know, killing children or something."

"Excuse me?" Herr asked.

"Nothing." Dib answered, "Nothing. I'll do better this time."

"No." Herr replied, "No more today. You have injured yourself seven times, considering it is only basic levetaion, that is _not_ a number to brag about. In fact it is quite pathetic. Instead of risking making a fool of yourself, we will stop for today."

"What?"

"You have used more energy _healing yourself_ than you have actually levitating. If nothing else, take a break for today. Go see Aaron about that counceling session your sister said you should have."

Then, Herr vanished.

"Snide little bastard." Dib grumbled, standing up and rubbing his shoulder, "He's not that mean to Gaz."

Of course, that was probably because Gaz was better, but Gaz had been with her powers for her entire life and had never known it. His had been taken away after he had misused them. He was glad he could not get the hang of using them, really, it mean he could never abuse them again, and that was worth everything.

But if it meant he could not save Tak? Well, no, that was not worth it. She was worth everything.

"I need a favor."

Dib stopped in his tracks. that had been Zim's voice, but he was fairly certian Zim was not talking to him. He was by the orchard, on the edge closest to the wall now, so he crouched down between the tree and the building under an apple tree._ (_Except of course they _were not_ apples becuase they were blue on the inside and actually felt a bit more like peaches. But they were red so Dib saw them and automatically assumed apple, and to make matters worse they actually _tasted_ like cherries so he was too damn confused to actually name it. Of course there _was_ some name in the Meekrob language, but it pretty much _sounded_ like apple, too, so Dib had just stopped caring by that point because it was not deadly.)

And that was not really the point, anyway. The point was Zim, and who he was talking too. Dib peeked between the leaves so he could see clearly, and he saw the Irken and one of the fourteen-year-olds, picking the not-exactly-apples-but-whatever. Zim walked to a second tree and very stealthily, slipped a sealed envelope and his cardkey into the red-haired kid's basket.

"Dexter." Zim said, pretending not to speak to the younger human, "You are the brainy one, yes?"

"Yes." Dexter replied, "You _could_ look at me, you know."

"No." Zim replied, "The Massive picks up visual, but not audio. They must never know we discussed anything."

"Discussed _what_?" Dexter replied.

"The Professor's notes. You have my permission to look at them—"

"Really?" Dexter asked, exited. He grinned, but did not look at Zim. The two remained with their backs to each other, and Zim kept speaking once the exited outbrust was over.

"— But there is one condition."

"What?"

"There is _one_ notebook there that does not belong to the Professor. It belongs to me. It is hidden under the overturned filing cabinets, trapped under the very last one. You may take who ever you like to help you lift them, because I realize that will be a difficult task for you, but you_ must_ get the sketchbook and hide it."

"Not give it back to you?"

"No." Zim said harshly, "Hide it where I cannot easily find it, and _don't tell anyone_ where you've put it, least of all me, and certainly not Red or Purple_. _I cannot stress that enough. You must tell _no one_ what you have done with it."

"But, why?"

"When, and if, I return to the planet, I trust you will use your sense to either let me find the sketches again, or hand them to me directly."

"Elaborate."

"If I seem to have forgotten Gaz, let me find it on my own. If I seem to remember her, hand them to me directly."

"I get you. You think they could trigger memories?"

"Exactly."

"You sound like you have a plan. Tell me what _exactly_ I have to do."

"I have slipped a sealed note and my cardkey into your basket. Take them to the sentry posted just outside of the settlement, and tell him you have my permission to beam aboard and view the research. Show him the cardkey but _do not_ show him the note. You will be given an escort to the lab, to make sure you _only_ go there. Do not panic, that is protocol and nothing more. You will be left alone once you are in my office."

"Okay."

"You will need to employ a bit of stealth for this. Do not simply grab the sketchbook and go. At least pretend to search the office, and pick out as many files as you like, there are a great many topics the Professor has studied and you are certain to find a great deal of them useful. There should be a box you can place them in. Take the ones you want, but be certain to bring my sketchbook and a sealable envelope with you, one the sketchbook should fit inside."

"Alright."

"Once they have been brought back to the surface, take the sealed note and place it in the larger envelople with the sketchbook. Once that's done, hide it where every you like, just be sure to remember it. The envelope should be weather proof, so decay will not be a problem, bury it, place it under your bed, I honestly don't care."

"And what if someone had tampered with it by the time you get back?"

"You just have to make sure it is very well hidden. My bets would be on Tallest Red, or Dib. Thoes are the only two that would want to sabotage my attempts to remember Gaz."

For the record, Dib actually did not want to sabotage Zim's attempts to remember Gaz, and he just wanted that to be on the record for all time. For one, he could not figure out why Zim would need to, but Zim was rarely paranoid over nothing these days, and he had recalled Gaz telling him once or twice that he had been acting funny for a while now.

"Go." Zim said, "Quickly, before Red has the office cleaned up."

With out a word, Dexter took the two items from his basket and walked away. Dib, curious, followed quickly. He took the card key and note out of the basket and stuffed them in his pocket, then he hurried off and collected one other, Pheobe, to be presice, and the two of them continued on to the sentries posted just out side of camp, should anyone need to beam up for any reason. Dib quickened his pace, hoping to catch up before they were beamed aboard.

They were not beamed aboard.

"I've got orders from the Tallests. Unless you've got written permission or Zim accompanies you, you're classified as unauthorized personel."

"Oh, of course he's got permission!" Dib called from a few feet back, "Like the kid would steal Zim's card and lie!"

They both frowned at him. He took the miffed tone out of his voice. He had just wanted to see Zim's plan go smoothly, that was all. He should do his part to help out, now, "But if he need's an escort, he's got me."

Dexter suddenly looked very scared, but the expression was gone just as fast. Dib had caught up to them, his hands in his pockets, the two sentries frowned, "Shouldn't you be training?"

"Hurt my shoulder." he said, "Herr said to call it a day or I'd use more energy healing myself than practicing."

"And why are _you_ going aboard the Massive?"

The both stared up at him. Dib got the sinking suspition that Red _knew_ Zim was planning something and he was trying to make it damn hard for him to succeed. Why _exactly_ Red would be that much of a dick eluded Dib, but instead of saying, 'Hey, you're leader's being an ass!' out loud, he just said smoothly, "I had this brilliant idea. Bring all my father's research down _here_ for the time being, instead of destroying the hard copies for being a waste of space. You know, get several weather proof boxes and just sort of, leave them in the foryer for now."

"Why?"

"It... It's what Dad would have wanted. I _know_ that if the Earth had suddenly fallen to nuclear disaster and there were only a handful of heathy humans left, he would want some — if not _all —_ of his research made public."

Actually, Dib was pretty sure that his Dad had _hated_ the thought of his research becoming public for any reason, but Dib left that part out.

The two Irkens exchanged a glance, then said, "Why bring these two, and not Zim?"

Good one, but Dib was on a roll. He said as if it were obvious, "_Because,_ Zim's been up there all morning, and he wants to spend a little time with Gaz, _away_ from work. This is an aspring scientist, too, he needs to learn the ropes of filing research." Dib conviently left out that _he_ did not actually know the ropes, either. He always assumed they were filed by topic alphabetically, but Zim had always insisted that they should be filed by date. They only had the one sea of paper to deal with, so they had each taken their half and organized it to their own wishes. It had caused more than a few petty squabbles.

They did not want to believe him, but one of them eventually said, "Three to beam up, sir. Have a packing and transport crew standing by, Dib wants to bring his father's research to the planet's surface."

No one asked any futher questions. They were beamed aboard with out delay, then given an escort directly to he lab, along with a packing crew. That meant a several red and purple eyes watching Daxter who could not easily get the sketchbook now, because he just had to chime in and help. But, with out him, they had not been able to get on board the Massive.

He should just worry about taking all of this stuff down right now. If he was wanted in Zim's office, they would call him, and they showed no sign of calling him. He went over to the first cabinet, and was about to unload the frist drawer when someone cut in, "Sir, these are filed according to the human alphabet."

"Yeah, my Dad was human. I'm human." he replied, "That makes sense, right?"

"I cannot believe Zim never told you it was military policy to file by date, not to mention it is one of the guidelines for galactic ediquiette. Not everyone uses the human alphabet. In fact, only _humans_ do."

"Okay, well, this is going to a _human_ settlement, so file them alphabetically." Of course, they did not _know_ the human alphabet, and he knew he would be faced with either teaching a first grade lesson, or sending to the other room, where they would be more useful, and he did not want to do eiher, "Okay, okay, file them by date!"

"This will mean we have to move everything into one room." the leader of the packing crew said, "I would say this one, because it is neater, but that is actually a lie."

_Ouch_.

"Okay, well, move it out into the main lab, then, it's clean enough."

"And it will be difficult enough becuase everything in Zim's office is scrambled beyond all hope. This will take _days_."

"_Scrambled_?" Dib quoted, he walked out into the lab and over to Zim's office door, "What do you mean_ 'scrambled'_? Everyone knows Zim is more organized tham m —Woah."

It _was_ pretty scrambled. Dexter and Pheobe were looking around, bewildered and they probably though Zim had fallen off his rocker or something. Dib certainly thought so. He looked down and saw that the floor was covered with sheets of paper, some were blank, some were loose ones from his fathers notes. He saw _one_ formula written on a disposable cup that had been unrolled. It was coffee stained, believe it or not, and looked to be written in either sharpie or liquid eyeliner.

His dad did not wear eye liner, and so he assumed it was either Gaz's or his mother's.

Which meant that is was rediculously acient.

"_Apparently_, Zim suffered a nervous breakdown."

"Nervous breakdown? That's bullshit, Zim doesn't have neavous breakdowns. I mean, he gets techy, and I suppose and Irken would call that a break down, but—"

"Would you like to see the security footage, sir?"

"Um... no." Dib replied. He saw a perfect chance to get them all out, "Look, you worry about what is in my office. Just file it according to date, that's fine. We'll get all of this sorted out."

He gave the two teenagers a slight nod. He picked up the unrolled coffee cup and looked it over, "Oh _man_ this is old. Kids, get over here, this is a bit of your heritage."

Neither one was very amused with his tone, "What?"

"Now, when we get back to Earth, there probably won't be a Starbucks coffee standing, but before the nuclear fall out they were literally everywhere. Maybe weÕll spot an empty shell of one, with nuclear-ly roasted coffee beans."

Funny thing was, if there _was_ a Starbucks still standing, Dib was pretty sure they would start selling nuclear java. "Yeah, but what's the formula?"

"Oh, um... It doesn't say."

"Can you understand it?"

"... Fuck no."

"Messy handwriting?"

Contracy to the norm, Professor Membrane actually had quite neat handwriting. Dib did not know where he got this strangely legible script from, but he had a suspition it was because he _forced_ himself to write neatly, probably because there was so much hinging on his notes.

Then why the hell was this so wierd?

"No. It's smudged to hell."

Only, it was not. it was just strait up messy. Not a smudged messy, either, a deliberate messy.

"I don't think this is my Dad's handwriting. It's too wierd. Maybe he was _drunk_ but he only consumed alcohol on _really_ special occasions. This is like, _girly_ handwriting, maybe... Maybe Mom wrote this."

"But you still can't make it out?"

"No." Dib replied, "This could be the meaning of life and its lost forever becuse I can't read my mom's handwriting. Just file it some where between nineteen eighty one and eighty nine."

He got down on his knees and searched through the loose papers. It was a great deal like what he had to work with back in his own office. Napkins, reciepts for damn near everything — Dib was glad to see his father was human — and plain scraps of paper. The major problem with classfying these random notes by date was that he had no idea if the date on the receipt was the day the note was written. He just started making a pile of them on the desk after he had turned it back over. He would have to bring Zim up tomorrow to sort all of this out.

"Why the _hell_ did he do all of this?" Dib asked, massaging his throbbing-anew shoulder, "We're ankle deep in random papers!"

"Dib?"

He turned, Pheobe was standing there, Dexter was knealing behind the overturned row of filing cabinets, "We need you to, um, lift the filing cabnet while Dexter and I get what ever is stuck under it out."

"Oh, of course."

Of _all_ the days to hurt his shoulder! He was pretty certain what she _meant_ was_,_ 'block what Dexter and I are doing from any possible cameras,'anyway, but he did need to set the filing cabinets up right against the wall again, which was exactly what he did with the help of Dexter. When they lifted the last one, with quick fingers, Pheobe took the sketchbook and the note Zim had left to himself and slipped them in a black plastic envelope, then, just as quickly, she handed it to Dib, who tucked it away in his coat while Dexter collected stray papers. Dib was pretty sure they had kept any possible cameras from picking up the theft. He put the cabinet up right completely, and with just as much stealth, dropped the black envelope in the middle drawer. In the file folder regarding superhuman cloning, which was empty, for some odd reason.

Zim must have destoryed it.

Good. Dib could not agree more. If Dad had wanted that research shared or used ever again, he would have told him and Gaz everything when they were old enough to understand. But he had not. He had obviously wanted to snuff it out.

And Zim obviously had something up his sleeve. Red was pulling the bitch move of making him break Gaz's heart, and Dib could not figure out why, but he was pretty sure the only reason he still had a name plate on his door was becuase Red had not gotten around to firing him yet. Why he would want to keep Zim and fire Dib was a mystery to the human. Zim was the defective one (but he was getting progressively better) but perhaps he was just one more card Red had desided to tuck up his sleeve to perserve the Irken race. And what was Dib? Too dangerous to keep? Or had Red just not figured out what to do with him yet?

Or did Red honestly _not_ want them? Why would he isolate a powerhouse like _Gaz_ by taking Zim away?

Hell, that was not isolation, that would make an _enemy_ of her, really. What a stupid move. Red was not that stupid, was he? No. No he was not. Red had a motive. Always, Red had a motive. What cards were on the table? What reasons did the four of them have?

Tak. Red wanted Tak around because she could have smeets, because the smeeteries and breeding calculator had stopped, and presumably to free the Irken race from the PAKS. No one had actually _told_ Dib this, but he could figure it out on his own. Gaz. Gaz was around to fix Mothercontrol, technically, this would negate the need for Tak, but Red was using both, probably so the Irkens with PAKs could protect the ones with out until there were enough to secure the settlement. Red needed Zim to make the Metamorphosis Drug to make them all taller and stronger, possibly for conquest, possibly just because that would make them stronger.

Dib was the only really unnessicary one here, but by pleding to heal Tak, he would insure that she would like to have a second batch of smeets. Red probably knew this, or maybe he didnÕt and it would be a pleasant suprise.

Zim would make the Metamorphosis Formula, functioning PAK or not, it just depended on if Red let him keep Gaz or not. Part of the hive mind, he did not need or want Gaz, out side of it, he wanted her, and she would be a valuable asset to invasions. Red knew this. Red was probably _counting_ on it. He wanted something. What? For Gaz to barter her services in exchange for Zim?

Red was not _that_ bad, was he?

... Was he?

* * *

[1.] And now, none of you will be able to watch Star Wars III with out thinking the same thing: Ani, man up and get her a damn prenatal docotor, you whiny little bitch.

-I love Star Wars, its just that what the men of the Skywalker family lack in brains and personality they make up for in well meaning but it _really_ does not work out.


	34. Chapter 34

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed)

* * *

Chapter thirty four: Always one more twist in the path

Zim came back to bed smelling like smoke. Gaz noticed this because he did not smoke, and it smelled more like a wood fire than tobacco or weed anyway. Then she remembered they were on _Meekrob_ and the plants that Skoodge sold were picked up here and sold as something resembling super!weed was was pretty much fatal to anything that did not have the drug tolerence of an elephant made of rocks that was fed from infancy by the sugarpulm fairy or something crazy like that...

And she really should not come up with metaphores when she just woke up.

Point was, before she faded back to sleep after being temporarily awakened by him disturbing the matress, she saw a genuine smile, that was enough to make her forget about the fact that he could have very well have been smoking super weed.

But that was unlikely, because he did _not_ have the drug tolerance of a rock, let alone an elephant_ made_ of rock that had been fed from infancy by the sugarplum fairy or something crazy like that. Which was wierd, because most Irkens actually had a really high drug tolerance, or so word of mouth told her. But she had learened that Zim was a man of many inadequacies, and the fact that he passed out after one shot of anything alcoholic or fainted even with the slighest hit of drugs was cute.

Except she woke up and he still smelled like smoke, and she did not actually _like_ that smell. Also, he was not in his half sleep. He was very much awake and stroking her hair, and that kind of made her feel really voilated. But she looked up at him and he was still grinning bradly, sort of like a slasher's death grin. He looked like he had been awake and smiling creepily like this the entire night. Any one who had seen him had probably not gotten a good sleep. She knew she would not have if _she_ had known he was looking over her with a slasher smile. "Good morning!"

"You seem happy." she said, "Happy for the first time in months."

"That's because I am!"

"Why?" she demanded, "Are you _finally_ going to tell me what is — or _was —_ wrong?"

"No."

"You jerk!'

He laughed and fluffed her hair lovingly. He was sitting up against the wall, which sort of served as the headboard, so far as anyone was conserned, sort of at an angle to accomodate his PAK. He had one arm curled behind her so her head was resting against his chest. The other hand never stopped fiddleing with her hair, but now that she was _awake_ his free had become a bit more daring, and instead of laying useless beside her, he began to grope. Not explore. Strait up grope. He already _knew_ where to place his hands, and he made quick work of getting her exited.

And right now, that just made her upset, because he was _supposed_ to be confessing his woes and fears. And he was _not_. He was acting like he could slither out of it by feeling her up! Angry, she untangled herself from him and sat at the foot of the bed while he was still reclined at the pillows. His creepy smile faltered for a bit, and he looked at her, as if completely bewildered as to _why_ she was choosing to give him the cold shoulder. "It's unimportant!" he said, almost pleadingly, "It will never bother us again."

"I'll get it out of you someday. It's only a matter of time."

"Don't be silly." He moved closer to her, trying to pick up where she had cut him off, "You would only bother yourself with... Well, something completely trivial!"

The moment his hands reached her sides, she stood up and slapped him. He was knocked back down onto the bed. She watched him pick himself up and his smile never failed, "It's unimportant. You'll soon forget, Temptress. You'll soon forget."

"Remember what I said _last time_?"

Gaz was of course refering to the last time he had acted suspitious and shut her out. This had been back on Earth, and she still had no clue what had bothered him, nor would she ever, it seemed.

"Yes." he replied, then he quoted, "I'll let it go _this time_, but you will _have_ to tell me what is troubleing you _next time_."

"And?"

"And before I did not want to trouble you." Zim said, "Now, it is past and there is no reason to bother you—" She gave him her best death glare, and he scooted back towards the pillows, ÒBesides, Zim made no promise!"

"Bitch, I will cut you." Gaz replied dryly, crossing her arms. She lost the death glare and instead just stared at him. He stared innocently back, hands on his knees, exactly like one would expect a soldier-scientist to sit. She was amazed that he could keep such a pokerface while she was contemplating ripping his head off, but she knew that if she did that she would regret it, because there would be no way of bringing him back from the dead.

He got to his feet and backed her into the opposite wall, smirking and chuckling. She socked him in the chest. Hard. Hard enough to knock the wind out of him. She walked over to the underground water pump and washed her self off. Zim was kind enough to bring her a change of clothes, but with the way he had been acting that morning, Gaz rightly assumed that this was only in the hope of catching her undressed. She flicked a few drops of water on his face and pulled the privacy curtain while he hissed in mild pain.

"And such treatment will continue until you tell me what was bothering you."

She heard Zim sigh and saw his sillouette place his hands on his hips and shake his head. Eventually she heard him say, "I knew that if I told you, you would not go though with Red's plan."

"What do you mean?"

"When you fix Mothercontrol." he answered, "You will take away my emotions, too, just like everyone else. _Red_ plans on wiping my memories, too, but between you and me, I've pretty much gauranteed that I will be able to remember you later, and even if I don't if you ever get the chance, I want you to bring my emotions back anyway. It is that simple."

"That's _it?_"

"So trivial, yes?" Zim answered. He seemed to feel intitled so something, so he pulled back the curtain quickly and joined her in privacy. Obviously, there was some sort of 'business' he felt needed to be done. Fortunately, she was at least halfway clothed, and her elbow jabbed into his midsection before his arms could snake around her waist.

"_Stop it_, _Zim!_" Gaz warned, "I have lessons today, you know that."

Zim cursed and rubbed where her elbow had stabbed him, but kept his distance after that, seemingly pleased just by watching her dress. It was a little freaky, but that was part of what attracted her to him in the first place, so she had stopped letting it bother her, becuase it was a little stupid to be attracted to what bothered you.

When she was dressed she walked past him and was glad to see he did not try anything funny. She had a quick breakfast and started picking a few of the... what-ever-they-were-calledÕs that looked ripe enough to eat. They were the only _real_ crop that had come in, and aside from what the others could forage or the Massive could spare, all they had to eat so far. Two more months. That was when the crops could be harvested. Two more months. And they would bestaying that long, because Zim wanted to test the prototype of the robot he had made, to perfect the design on the way to Dirt.

She, unlike Dib, had the privaledge of taking her lessons in the cool interior of the monolith, becuase her powers did not entrail things like _flying_, and it really was not very hands on, it seemed. Of course, it was very bit as interactive, just more sedentary. Yes, that was the perfect was to describe it. Seden—

"Look, Zim, you think you've outsmarted Red, but I don't think you _have_."

Gaz stopped in her tracks. She dropped to her knees beside the stone trapdoor that lead to he underground bedroom.

"What?" Zim replied, "What do you mean?"

"I know you, so I've figured out your plan." Dib replied, "Red takes away your memories, so when Gaz fixes Mothercontrol, taking away the emotions of every Irken, including you, you will have no desire to get them back, because you don't remember any reason to have them, meaning Gaz. You must have assumed this was so that you would be willing to make the Metamorphosis Formula with out distractions—"

"—Well, I was never certain about Red's motives, but—"

"That makes no sense, because you'd always be willing to do it. And Red knows this. You've got an iron-clad patriotism, but you've also got unfailing loyalty to Gaz, this is why _you_ took Dad's notes on cloning and switched it with one of your sketchbooks, which Red ordered you destroy to avoid triggering any dormant memories. You told Dexter to hide it and to bring it too you at a later date, should you ever return. This is because you've got some sort of logical argument written out for yourself, so you'll willingly have Gaz reprogram you to be separate from the rest of the Irken race, right?"

"I don't see the flaw in that plan." Zim said indignantly, "What? What has Zim overlooked? _Tell Zim now!_"

"Red." Dib answered, "You overlooked _Red_."

"I did not!" Zim hissed, "I was extremely careful. He won't realize what I have done for—"

"Even if he doesn't, Gaz is not the only one who can reprogram you. Red can too. You must have forgotten that."

"Why would Red want to _un-_reprogram me?"

"Remember how you were sold as part of the deal back on Earth?" Dib asked, "It's like that, but this time you're not leverage, you're more like bait. So long as Gaz works for him, you will be able to love her. The moment she _stops_ doing what Red wants? He'll take your PAK and take away your emotions again. He's just betting that Gaz won't be able to stand that. So, so long as she is _alive_ she will work for him, without question."

"NO!" Zim shouted, "No! Red _wouldn't_ do that! He's not _that_ evil! He may be desperate, but he is _not_ like that!"

"Zim, calm down."

"No! I won't be used to manipulate Gaz!" Zim kept hissing, "No! No!"

Dib slapped him. There was silence for a moment.

"Thank you. I needed that."

"Any time." Dib said, "But what are we going to do? I don't _want_ the Irken Empire using my sister for anything _bad_."

"I—I don't know." Zim answered, "But you've given me something to think about, certianly. I have to go aboard and work now."

With a little gasp, Gaz stood up and silently ran to where she was supposed to meet Laurie for her lessons, which was clear on the other side of the main hall. She watched as Zim emerged from the underground room, but he did not seem to notice her, but she knew he did. He just could not face her. She stood there stupidly, watching him go and wondering if he was going to do anything about it, but she could tell by the way he walked Dib had crushed the enthusiasm that had been there this morning, and as much as she wanted to kill her brother, she knew he had meant well and he did not want to sit back and _watch_ them fail.

"Zim!" she called, "Zim, wait."

He was standing in the doorway, and she ran towards him, "We'll run away." she said when she had joined him at the archway, "After I've fixed Mothercontrol and brought your emotions back, we'll run away."

"And do what?"

"Anything we damn well please!" Gaz answered, "All I need is—"

"No." he placed a clawed finger over her lips, "Don't be stupid. You will need so much more than me. You will be needed on Earth, and it is the first place Red will look—"

"_Dib_ is not going to Earth." Gaz replied, batting his hand away, "I don't see why I have too."

Of course, she really did want to. She missed Earth. Sure, Meekrob was pretty much the same climate wise, but she missed Earth all the same. She wanted to go back to their home down and see who had managed to survive the fallout in Zim's shelters. She wanted to know what buildings would still be useful and if there were any animals still alive.

But it would be the first place Red looked. She knew that. So if she had to chose Zim or Earth, which would she pick?

"Because, life on the run in space is even _worse_ than life on the run on Earth. The only steady employment we will have is with a druglord. At every turn, you will be hunted from all sides, and you may _claim_ you are not frightened by you cannot fool me."

She was blinking back tears. She did not want to cry. Not about something like this. She continued to blink, as if she could hide the fact that she was about to break down from him. She gritted her teeth, squared her jaw, and clenched her hands into fists, ready to turn her anger with Red into a voilent outbrust, preferably directed towards Red. Zim smiled sadly and placed his hands on her shoulders. She thought he was going to pull her towards him, but instead he lightly traced his fingers down her arms and raised her hands up. Very gently, he uncurled her fists. "Gaz, you may have to forget about me."

"No!" she shouted, "Red cannot wipe _my_ memories, and _I_ sure as hell won't do it."

"I wanted to go to Earth with you." he told her, "That is exactly what I wanted, to help you rebuild the planet we both called home, but if Red won't let you return because of your emotional connection with me, then the emotional connection must be severed."

"Earth does not need me." Gaz insisted, "Earth will have Herr. Earth will have a bit of Fry and Laurie, too. And Dwicky. Earth does not need me, but _you do._"

"Zim shouldn't have _told you_." Zim hissed, looking at the ground between their feet, "Now look at what it has caused! We are _both_ misrable. I'm so sorry. I can't do anything. I'm completely useless. I can't even say 'It will be all right' any more, because we _both_ know it is a lie."

"We should go talk to Red."

"No." he shook his head, "Go train."

He was obvisouly torn up about this. She could see it in his eyes. What worried her is that, once again, the Zim of six years ago, the Zim that would throw a tantrum and get something _done_ was gone. Lost in this reserved _shell_ of an Irken. She wanted to grab his shoulders and tell him to fight for her, but she knew he had already done that, only to be told it was pretty much for nothing. She wanted to tell him that, should they run away, she would never use her powers again and they could find jobs doing what ever they wanted, but she knew there would be someone, somehwere else, who would find out about her powers, and that would be the end of it. Zim was right to give up.

He did not kiss her. He just started to walk away, and she could not stand it. She jumped after him and pulled him close, burying her face in his uniform tunic and trying her best not to cry, "You can't tell me I'm going to live as long as you, _then_ tell me I'll have to live _with out_ you." she said, but it was muffled by his chest, "Zim, _please_ talk to Red?"

"That won't do any good." Zim laughed bitterly, stroking her hair, "He's done so much now, I don't think he cares about what we think."

Then she was angry again. Her hands balled into fists and she pushed away from him, so her amber eyes could met his ruby, "Then I'll fucking _make_ him care."

"No."

She started walking down the winding trail to where the senturies waited to monitor traffic to and from the Massive. When they were upon the smaller Irkens Gaz said strongly, "Two to beam aboard."

"What is your business?"

"Personal." Gaz answered in the same tone. They were beamed aboard after that, and as soon as the strage feeling passed, she walked towards the bridge, where she was certain Red would be waiting. But of course, the little bastard _wasn't_ there. He was hiding in the ship's library. She dragged Zim with her there, too. They found Red seated in a chair, some holographic record open in his hands. He looke so smug an peaceful, so sure of himself. It made her mad. It made her sick. She reached her mind out to the record, instructing it to short out to get his attention.

It did much better than that. It exploded. Right in his face. Gaz looked on triumphantly as he spluttered angrily and looked at the steaming remains of digital book, then to her. Zim took ahold of her arm, as if to push her behind on on a momentÕs notice. She shook him off. He was so spineless now, it seemed. Scared, maybe it was just a feeling of learned helpless ness, but _she_ still had some fight left in her!

She hated to admit that the following words did not come out like she had planned, "Red, why are you doing this?"

She had meant to sound angry and strong; she sounded like a whimpering, crying little girl. And that was exactly what she did. She sat down in another chair and she started crying. She felt Zim rubbing her shoulders, holding her close. It was so much sweeter that they were misrable together, some how, but it hurt to know that their last months would be spent dreading the day she took his emotions away. "I don't want to loose Zim. I don't want to loose him."

Red looked at her indifferently, as if he did not even care if she was dying inside. He laced his robotic finger together in front of him and rested his elbows on the arms of his chair. Passive. Brooding. "It is very unlike you to cry." he remarked calmly.

And that remark made her angry. She got up again, shoving Zim off when he tried to hold her back. "Well what else can I do?" she demanded, "Dib won't do it. Tak _can't _do it and Zim probably won't either. I'm the only human with any emotional investment in this. A-and I do cry, sometimes. I-I cried when Dad died. It's only natural to cry when someone's being an absolute _jerk_ to you and everyone you know."

He did not say anything. Gaz let herself calm down, but she did not see any murderous gleam in Red's eye. He just sat there, completely indifferent. There was only a little flicker in his antennae once as he asked, "So you refuse to work for me?"

"Yes." she said, "It's become clear to me that you only want me to fix mother control so you can make the Irken Empire even more formidable, and I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be fair, and I know I've never been big on order and fairness by I can't do that, because then you would force me to tip the odds in your favor and I don't _want_ to do that. Not if its forced."

"I won't _make_ you do anything." Red replied smoothly, "Your attatchment to Zim will accomplish that for me. I won't touch you. I won't twist your arm. I won't maim anyone and I won't use unnessicary force. I am just giving you Zim. Take him or leave him."

"I won't even fix Mothercontrol for you." Gaz shouted, "Don't you get it? I won't do it."

"Oh?"

_There_. Right there. A chill ran up her spine at his tone, but she did not let it show in her face. She kept her expression calm and her stance firm. Red would not intimidate her.

"You can't do anything." she said triumphantly, "You can't threaten to kill Zim, because you would have to go through with it, and he is the only one that can make the Metamorphosis Drug. You can't kill _me_ because it would defeat the purpose of forcing me to do anything."

"And what about Dib?" Red replied, deathly serious, "Dib is useless to me."

Gaz kept her mouth shut and she continued to stare Red down, but his expression didn't change. He would kill Dib. Gaz was certain of it, but she did not let the fear show in her face.

"No." Zim said quickly, "Dib is valuable too you. He can—" Red looked directly at Zim, intrigued. Zim stepped back, covering his mouth. Before Red could ask Zim what he mean, Gaz cut in.

"Red, what's gotten _in_ to you?" she asked, "Its like you've completely fliped out. You were not afraid to ask me to help you before, and I was perfectly happy to do it, because I owe you my freedom. Why the hell are you taking it away again?"

Red stood up then and walked towards the two of them, "If you do not work for me, where will you go? The Irken Empire has the skill and technology to keep you free, as you put it. Should you run away, we can always track you through Zim PAK—"

"I've studied it!" Gaz said, pleased that she could actually bargain with Red. "The tracking device can be disabled, normally this would mean that the life support functions would be shut off, too, but I have managed to disconnect it with out killing Zim. Check your radar. Search for him. He won't show up. Don't even pretend that you _can_."

Red stopped advancing.

"Yes. Yes, a-and I could do the same for _Tak_ if I need to. So you won't touch her, either. You won't be able to manipulate us any more."

"You think I am doing this for personal gain? Some cheap thrill? You think I consider your lives pawns on a chessboard? Do you think I just blindly want to pursue power?"

"Yes!" Gaz found herself shouting, "That is exactly what it seems like."

"Well that is not it." Red answered. He stopped himself from saying any more and floated angrily away. Gaz and Zim both watched as he glared up at the holographic records before him. Zim stepped forward and grabbed her hand, either to protect her or for his own emotional security. Probably both.

Red sighed, shook his head, and finally admitted, "I don't want Purple to be _afraid_ any more. I want him to stop _dying_ inside and I want to give him a future worth looking too."

"And you don't think _this_ is scaring him?" Gaz asked, forcing herself free, commanding the cybernetics to let her go, "If _Dib_ or _Zim _resorted to some of the things I've heard you have done, I would _not_ look forward to any future you've created."

"What would you know? You're a human." he answered, turning around again. Maybe Red was feeling guilty now that she was here, confronting him herself. Instead of Zim just moping around and trying to outwit him, or instead of Tak just laying there incapable of doing anything.

"Don't you think I want to see _my_ race live on, Red?" Gaz asked, "Don't you think I want to see it with Zim? Earth is his home just as much as Irk is."

She expected Red to react badly to that, but he did not. He simply shrugged and looked her over, then looked Zim once more and got a pensive, thoughtful look on his face. Like he was thinking back to what Zim and said about Dib, or had _almost_ said about Dib and Gaz seriously worried that Red might try to bring him into the mess, too. Of course, Dib was already in this mess. He had figured it all out. Gaz would say he was about up to his nose in 'this mess' — this horrible political quagmire! — just like the rest of them and Red — Red that bastard! — Red was not exactly jumping to throw them ropes, or smooth planks they could cling to and float with.

It had been quite for a long time, all three of them remained frozen, except for Red to bobbed up and down due to his cybernetic suit. Zim moved closer to her after a while, and Red's eyes followed him intently. "What now, my Tallest?" Zim asked. The fear was all to clear in his voice, "What will you do?"

"Nothing." Red declared triumphantly, "Absolutely nothing."

_There's a catch._ Gaz thought_. There is a catch and we have to figure it out on our own._

What? Destroy the Earth completely? They did not have enough fire power for that. They can wipe out the surface life, but everything is below the surface anyway, so no one would really die. What? What is it? Kill Dib?

Turn around and do something despicably evil like open a trap door below us and say, as we fall down, '... if you can make it out of here alive.'

_No. No, Gaz, look at the expression on his face. He's sincere. He's a despicable bastard but damn it all he's sincere. _

But she found herself saying anyway, "What's the catch?"

"I... I have your word, Zim, that you _will_ make the Metamorphosis Drug if it proves safe on Skoodge?"

"You must promising me here that Dib and Gaz are free to make their own choices." Zim warned, but it was a feeble sort of warning. his heart was not really in it, "Before I comit to any thiing."

Red scoffed, "You say that like I will be bound to any promise I make by the computers, just like the old days."

"Come, Gaz. We leave." Zim said sharply.

"Fine!" Red exclaimed immediately afterwards in a moment of weakness, "Fine! I promise. And I have your word, Gaz, that you will fix Mothercontrol?"

"Only if I can keep Zim." She added.

"Fine. Fine."

"And Tak?" Zim asked, "What about her?"

"Tak is no longer your concern." Red answered.

"But, Dib—"

"Dib is free to _leave_ he is not free to _stay_."

Gaz had to remind herself not to say a word, becuase the last thing Red needed was a new reason to keep them there. Desiding that he could be trusted enough now, even if he was a jerk, she turned on her heel and walked out, dragging Zim behind her.

* * *

I'm suprised the Star Wars reference went over so well! But I honestly can't watch the new trilogy with out thinking, "USE THE FORCE TO PULL THEM OUT!" You'd think that some Jedi, somewhere, would have figured that out! But nooooooooo that would make life too easy!

Speaking of babies (no, I'm not baby-obsessed) there is a certain feeling expectant mothers get when waiting for their little bundles of doom and joy to quicken. that is about how I feel right now towards this fic. Except, replace 'quicken' with 'end' and 'little bundle of doom and joy' with 'this damn fic.'


	35. Chapter 35

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed)

In the plethora of scents made by Victoria's Secret, there is one that I cannot stand. I mean, I really, _really_ hate it. It stinks. You know how so many women will buy a navy sweater to go with a nidnight blue skirt and insist that 'it matched in the store' because stores have the kinds of lights that do that? well, I _bought_ a vial of the purfume becuase it '_smelled_ good in the store.' It brought it home and it was only good for geting spiders stoned before I kill them.

Its stinks.

That scent?

Is worn by my room mate.

It's too ironically funny to find any fault with it, though.

* * *

Chapter thrity five: *totally have not skipped an update*

Zim was not convinced. He was not. He could not be. He even wrote a _letter_ about how unconvinced he was and wondered in that letter just what methods Red would use to keep Gaz in line now that he knew she knew what he was up to, then he shredded it and burned the strips because he knew if Red found it he _would_ use what he had written and at leave _one_ plan would work.

He stared off into nothingness, and gave another angry huff, his red eyes smoldering and his teeth grinding. He was not convinced. He was too upset to be convinced. He had sent GIR back down to Meekrob's surface against his better judgement, because in his current angry, paradiod mood, the paltry SIR unit was best serving everyone hindering Mimi's attempts to keep Alu out of trouble, or bothering Gaz, not pestering Zim. Minimoose was sitting in a corner, probably feeling meglected and abused, because Zim had shouted at him for being 'too happy' or 'too hopeful' or 'too cuddly.'

"Zim." Skoodge said, "You need to calm down."

"What?" Zim asked, the world coming to focus on Skoodge again, "What did you say?"

He had come in for his routine checkup, as he did once a week. Zim seemed to recall it had been completed at least thirty minutes ago. Why was he still here? Zim had given him the results, what else could he possibly want? He was fine! Why was he still here?

Had Red sent him to spy on him? The rotten—

_No._ Zim could have slapped himself. Skoodge would never do that.

"You need to calm down." Skoodge repeated, "Seriously."

Zim stared at him for a long while, trying to calm himself, like Skoodge had told him too. He grew worried about because Skoodge was a _Vortian Opium_ dealer, and that stuff _would_ make him calm down, and he _knew_ if he could not manage a state of so-called 'calm' Skoodge _would_ offer it. And he did not want to have to turn him down. He also did not want to use it.

Sure enough, Skoodge said attentively, "Zim, you don't need anything... slightly less than _legal_ do you?"

"No!" Zim exclaimed, "No, no!"

Skoodge frowned, and Zim wondered how many sedatives the druglord could slip into his daily routine. He shuddered and desided it was best _not_ to think about it. The short Irken pressed a button in the chair and lowered it to the floor, so he could step off on the floor. It was a good improvement for both of them, because Zim's joints were not gripped by discomfort after he examined Skoodge.

"Zim, you've been like for at least a week. After Gaz had that confrontation with Red, if I remember—"

"Then _logically_," Zim snapped, "That had something to do with it!"

Skoodge jumped a bit, bumping into the metal measureing stick Zim had been using to keep track of his height. Were he in any other condition, he would have considered it facinating, but at the moment, it was actually beginning to weigh as a bit more of a burden than anything. It was a mechanical action he had to do because Red — who was a rotten rat of a bastard, just in case there were any readers who still needed to be told this directly — had ordered him too.

Okay, okay, he _did_ care about Skoodge, but he could not really put his heart into it any more. And he regretted shouting, at him and at Minimoose, "You're fine." he said, "Functioning normally, gained an inch these past months."

"Really?" Skoodge asked, clearly exited.

"Yes, but it will take _six years_ for you to become as tall as _me_ and so you should not get your hopes up."

Skoodge laughed, "Hey, I don't _need_ your height to be a success. You don't have to be tall to be a big man, Zim."

"Don't talk to me about society in the black market!" Zim told him, "It makes me uneasy. Besides, you know all you need to do now to become a 'big man' is take Dib and Gaz and sell them."

"You know I wouldn't do that!" Skoodge replied, "I _know_ what it is like to be stepped on."

He calmed down again, "I know you know. You're free to leave now."

And he did, with a little salute. Zim leaned back agianst the counter and sighed, listening to the sound of his tiny boots clicking against the metal floor.

But he heard something else. The rumble of a ship's engine. He frowned and let his antennae twitch, trying to hone in on the sound. He knew it was not the _Massive's_ engine. It was in orbit, on some kind of cosmic cruise control. What could it possibly be?

With a quick motion for Minimoose to follow, Zim walked out into the hallway and down it, so he could look out one of the exterior windows to the four ships. There was the mother ship, about half of the size of the Massive. It appeared to be an unnamed vessal, but perhaps _none_ of Skoodge's ships displayed names. It would make them too easily identified, and this ship did not actually look like a flagship anyway, it was much too small. It was probably a lighter, faster ship, meant of travel, not muscle, but to any one with less than a single base of opperation, it was probably an intimidating sight.

"Impressive, isn't she?" Skoodge said smugly. Zim jumped.

"I-I thought you had beamed _down_!"

"My newest ship." the little druglord said, completely ignorning Zim's exclamation. He spoke as if he was speaking of a prized heirloom or star child, "Unnamed, as of yet, just out of the lab. It's the finest of Engineering Vort has to offer."

"Outsoursing, I see."

"Well I can't use _Irken_ technology, no one is threatened by that these days." Skoodge answered, "She's got botanical samples from planets similar to Earth and Meekrob — I didn't order them to kidnap any biologists, so I don't know what that look is about, Zim!"

"Sorry." Zim replied, "Just... up tight. Thank you, your help is much appreciated."

"Of course." Skoodge answered, "They'll be distributing wild animals next, with the Meekrob's permission, of course, it is _their_ planet."

Well, it was kind of him to ask. Granted, Zim suspected he had some sort of hidden agenda, like the climate all over the planet was perfect for some kind of silken-furred non-dominant creature and he wanted to go into the coat business. Of course, if he _did_ build up a population of rare fur-brearing coat-fodder, then it might _stop_ being illegal, unless Skoodge and the Meekrob somehow managed to keep it a secret and Zim was pretty sure there was some form of space PETA that would not let them keep it a secret.

Then again, Skoodge was never really in favor of animal cruelty. Perhaps he was planning on setting up a _reserve_ once the Meekorb had abandoned the place.

What a nice person.

"Let's beam down now." Skoodge said, "I want to be there when the stuff get unloaded, partly because I know you don't want them setting up the storehouses in the middle of the crop."

Zim had to hand it too him. Skoodge delivered. Always. They beamed down and Skoodge took a communicator from his PAK, but unlike the standard issue, this worked best on the ground and communicated with his own ships. He rattled off a few cooridinates, which Zim could accurately describe as 'just over the next hill' because _everything with in tewnty miles_ could be described by using the phrase, 'just over the next hill.'

Anyway, the mothership sent down landing craft and one of thoes landing craft came a little closer to Skoodge and Zim, but that was because Skoodge had ordered it too. The closest landing craft dropped a little capsule which buried itself in the ground and started expanding into a multi-level store house. If Zim recalled the standard model, it came with three climate-controlled floors underground and one regular level above ground. Quite a bit of space for such a small community, but it had the added bonus of being able to colapse again should they need it, provided it had been cleared out first.

The ships started to land just over more and more hills, Zim counted seven. The kids were emerging from where they had been working now, probably worried that these were slave traders come to capture them again and not Skoodge's associates. They were quite fond of Skoodge, and refered to him as 'uncle' behind his back, but to speak in their worried defence, the landing crafts _did_ look unfriendly, and the _were_ landing out of sight. They all seemed to be gathering behind _him_, as if he alone could do something about this.

It unnerved him slightly, because if anything they should be cowering behind Gaz or Dib, but they were no where to be seen at the moment anyway. But any and all wariness vanished when the others saw that Skoodge had brought not only plants, but blankets and fabrics. It would not always be summer on Meekrob. The humans might not know this, but the winters there were capable of becoming fairly harsh, not really at this lattitude, but he had not been given and official report on MeekrobÕs climate in quite some time, it might have gotten colder, it may well have gotten warmer. Sometimes things changed.

Three more capsules dropped, Zim stepped backwards to try to figure out what was going on for a moment, "I think we've got enough storage—"

"Its not storage." Skoodge answered, "They are capsule houses... An _older _model unfortunately. Not the _latest_ in temporary housing, you were lucky I found _two_ big enough."

Now that they were surfacing, Zim did see that one was smaller. He assumed this meant he would be sharing the smaller one with Gaz, as well and Dib and Alu, and Tak, should she ever wake up. Of course she would. She had too. Just because she _could_ stay like that forever, did not mean she _would._

"This is more than enough." Zim answered, "But, do you have permission to do this? What about the money?"

"You'd do the same for me, right?" Skoodge replied, "I'd say you already have. You let me sleep in your basement, remember?'

'That was a _basement._ The conditions were worse than sub-par."

"Yes, but I swore I would remember the little people on my way to the top."

"Eh?"

Then Skoodge threw his head back and laughed. Zim crossed his arms and frowed, but found himself smirking after a while. He did not laugh completely so Skoodge became conserned again. Of course, Zim knew that a forced laugh would make the situation even worse, so he did not know why he gave Skoodge a weak, fake chuckle. His frown darkened and Zim wondered if Skoodge would slip something in his drink later, or pump a vaporous form of opium he was completely unaware of [1.]

"What is going on here?"

"Ah, hello Mr. Dwicky."

"S-skoodge?"

The color drained from the adult's face. He always got like that when Skoodge was around, like the little Drug Lord was some sort of Jeckell and Hyde, and the Hyde would spring fourth at any moment and demand to be repaid. The others had easily accepted that Skoodge would rather have hugs _and_ drugs, instead of just one. He knew drugs would always bring in the gold, of course, he was not stupid, and if he had a smart phone he would have an app that told him the value per grams and ounces of anything he had in his power to sell. But he did need too. He had an an informant for that.

"W-what are you doing here?"

Dwicky was also completely unaware that Skoodge had _not_ been traveling, and had in fact been staying on board the Massive. Zim never bothered to tell him this because he always enjoyed the look of fear that came over his face when he was persented with the cartel boss and knew that thoes little golden moments would always be worth the truths he did _not_ tell.

Anyway, he and Muse had gently forced their way to the head of their adopted brood (Zim used the term loosely, because he had never heard any of them use the term 'parents,' 'Mom,' or 'Dad' in regards to them) and they looked around. Muse, unlike Dwicky, knew_ exactly_ was was going on and _exactly_ what it meant. Her dark eyes sparkled and she smiled, clasping her hands in front of her. If she could have flowers suddenly bloom, she would, and hearts spring forth, too.

Dwicky watched the display, slightly amused, then he turned to Skoodge, and asked almost warily, "They are for us?"

"Of course." Skoodge answered, "You'll be here a while, you _can't_ live in that temple forever."

"We're already settled in here and we couldn't possibly risk becomeing any more indebted to you." Aaron started, stepping forward on his good leg to assert himself. Muse crossed her arms and gave him a specific look, her black eyes flashing angrily and he stepped back again, leaning on his cane, "Okay."

Muse grinned broadly and knelt down to take her card key from Skoodge. She took two and handed one to Dwicky, then she took Pheobe's hand, and Peobe grabbed another one, whom Zim believed was called Nancy, and the other girls appeared to get the message, following her. It was about this time that Gaz walked up, GIR in tow. She looked around for a bit, and saw every other human female was fallowing Muse, she must have assumed that she would be too, because she shrugged and started to follow as well, but she quickly turned, shook her head, pointed at Zim, and winked.

Then she slammed the door in her face. She stood there, then turned back to Skoodge, looking a bit miffed and confused until she saw the third house across the pathway, the one that was slightly smaller. "Privacy." Zim muttered aloud, "This is going to be a welcome change."

Skoodge handed him the last card key and left to supervise the transport of everything else he had brought. Already a line of aliens from every corner of the universe were moving like a motley crew of ants towards the storage building, of course, others were spreading out with plant samplings and gardening tools just over _more_ hills and Zim wondered if this was a good idea, but Skoodge probably knew what he was doing.

Probably.

And if nothing else, they had plenty of time to irradicate any horribly invasive species. These were, after all, imported plants, some degree of invasiveness was to be expected, and really, the more invasive, the _better_. These plants would eventually be used on _earth. _He should probably run some tests and see just _how_ quickly they would take over, and he should probably take some measures to protect the crops from thems.

But Gaz was walking towards him, a distinct flicker in her eyes, of course, what he _thought_ would be a spur-of-the-moment lip lock was actually just to snatch up the cardkey and head inside with out him. Skoodge quickly followed, saying that he would show her around, and telling him that he should look for Alu, because he and Dib were the only two still missing.

Zim knew he was right, so he turned around and went to look for at least _Alu_ (Dib would figure it out soon enough.) He searched the high places, just like Dib, Gaz, and any notable authority on Alu had told him, and he would be _damned_ if he could find him. Sighing in frustration he checked all of the other possible places, then every nook and cranny of the temple. No mute dirtchild. He desided to go down to the sleeping quarters to hunt him out, and he eventually found him curled up into a little ball on on of the beds.

He was curled up with a length of sheer blue silk, and he felt _horrible_ when he realized it was the scarf Tak had worn just before she had... collapsed. Alu did not look tired. He looked sad and lonely. Poor kid.

"Dib didn't run you off, did he?"

Alu shook his head.

Frowning, Zim sat down beside him, trying to get a good look at his face. In the light he saw that his dark skin was abnormally red, and in places it was peeling. Just a little sunburn. Dib and Alu both were spending longer and longer hours beside Tak's body. She was _made_ to endure sunlight, Dib was not. He was of European descent and they tended to burn in the sun. Alu was darker, genetically resistant to sunburn, and if he was getting bisters, he could only imagine how _horrible_ Dib was fareing. Then again, Dib had healing powers, and he often used them uncontiously on himself.

So, Dib must be really depressed if he was not seeing to Alu's sun burn.

Zim frowned. He had _one_ gripe with the kid and it was not that he had randomly been bussed in, or that he always ran off when he should stay put, or that he seemed to enjoy messing with the others. No. Far from it. It was that he was _mute_. He just _sat there_ and _stared_. And he _never said a damn word._ It was _unnerving_ to say the least. And it was not what Muse did, either, Muse actually had regular facial expressions. This implied that she had been normal once. Alu's face was always frozen, like a deer in the headlights of a car, and he only showed emotions when he was _really_ feeling something.

Or maybe it was because his face was always frozen in that 'neglected puppy' look. Maybe he had been neglected at one point, but no one could say he was _now._ He never had been clingy, but with out Tak to keep running too, Alu had branched off into other means of care and reassrance. Naturally, he had gone to Dib first, because he had already known Dib, but Dib was _not_ good with children. Neither was Gaz, so while she was always willing to hold his hand across the street, she was not best suited to keeping a constant eye on him.

If it was true what the said, and it did take a villiage to raise a child, then Alu would probably be the most well-adjusted kid in history.

"I know how you are feeling." the Irken said, "Its difficult, being with out some one you love, but she'll be back. And I am sure she will not have forgotten about you. Infact, you are probably one of the first people she will ask for when she comes to."

Alu looked up at him.

"She'll be angry when she see's you've gotten sun burn."

He sat up, still holding Tak's duppata to his chest, like it was the last remaining bit of her that existed, or that her body had crumbled away in that white shell and the scarf was all that was left.

"Come." Zim told him, "You will not be sleeping here any more."

At least he understood what he was saying. He stood up and followed Zim down the trail and too the newly formed capsule houses. It was bold of him to go out in the sun gain, but a minute or two would not hurt. He seemed delighted by the fact that houses had simply grown up out of the ground, and he was facinated by all of the aliens around, he was looking from one to the other but Zim snatched up his wrist and lead him to the house he would be sharing with him along with Dib and Gaz.

His instincts told him to stop for just a second and listen. He heard footsteps above him and Gaz's voice: "Skoodge, I know this is wrong of me to ask, but, could I get... Something along the lies of rohypnol [2.]?"

"Rohypnol?"

"It's a date rape drug." she replied, as if she could not believe he had not heard of thoes.

"Eh?"

Gaz elaborated a little more. "You slip it into someone's drink and it knocks them out."

"Oh. I see." Skoodge said, "Yes, I think I have something like that. I wouldn't know for sure, I haven't been over my wares in a while."

"I don't need much, I only use about a quarter of the dose anyway. I just want Zim to be able to relax a bit, not exactly asleep. I know how much I need to slip in his drink, I've done it before."

"Gaz, you naughty girl."

"It's a trick I keep saved for special occasions." she answered, "You know, the nights before and after academic competitions, sometimes I have him drugged during the actual _event_ to keep him from getting too competitive. Oh, and it kept him from going crazy during the state-mandated tests. You know the ones."

"Um... No I don't."

So _that's_ why he was able to zone out so easily! That coy little temptress! Oh well, the damage that was done was done.

"— but I don't want a halocenogen. Just a sedative."

"Of course. Zim's delicate mental state—"

"— It's not his mental state, its my patience! He'd be worse than GIR."

As if to prove her point, GIR exclaimed in glee somewhere else in the house. They both shared a laugh, "Yes, I think I might have the same effect. A rose by another name."

They laughed again.

"I'll put some with the medicines I am giving you." Skoodge said after a while, "It will have to be kept under lock and key, of course, because two years, these kids will be what, sixteen. You know you can't trust them."

More laughter, this time softer, that was not as funny. It was too true to be funny.

"That would be best, I can't keep it here, you know how much Zim snoops."

"We don't do it on purpose." Skoodge replied, "Our hearing is just... _better_."

"Then hush. This is one of the many things I don't want Zim to know about."

"Of course."

When Zim was certain that vein of conversation was over, he stepped into the house, reaching out blindly for Alu. His hand passed over the air. Angrily, he turned, finding the kid looking up at the sky through a special telescope that Skoodge must have given him, looking at something in orbit around the planet, probably the ship Skoodge had just brought. He heard two pairs of footsteps behind him and knew that Gaz and Skoodge were walking down the stairs. They eventually joined him watching Alu, who was watching the sky intently, a grin on his sun-burnt face.

Alu had always been happiest aboard the Massive, where every inch was new, exiting and _in space. _Being on Meekrob had been fun for a while but he was probably waiting for them to move on again. Maybe he thought Tak was a traveler, and wanted her to wake up so they could hop from planet to planet, just like they had back on Earth.

Skoodge stepped forward and cleared his thoat. Alu jumped and looked at him, then grinned a little, but it stopped quickly enought, "Would you like that ship? When you're old enough, I'll let you take it. You can even _name_ her."

He beamed.

Skoodge corrected himself, "That is, if Tak approves."

So much devastation in such a little human. Zim almost laughed, but perhaps some of it was because Alu did not know for _certain_ when Tak was going to awaken, and he knew that while _Dib_ would probably let him fly around the universe in one of SkoodgeÕs ships, Tak would not. And Alu _did_ get pretty lonely some times. There was no one else his own age on the planet. He had plenty of people watching out for him, but he did not have the one he wanted.

Zim laid his clawed hand on his shoulder to provide some reassurance.

He did not think it worked.

* * *

"Would you like a drink, Zim?"

"Drink?"

He turned towards the kitchen door and saw Gaz standing at the counter, looking at him. He knew something was up. One, because he had _heard_ her talking about her plan to Skoodge, two, because she had changed her clothes. She had previously been wearing a pair of blue jeans and a tank top, nothing too special. Now she was wearing a dress that Zim _knew_ she would never dare put on if Dib was around. And this was not a _going out_ revealing dress, this was a _staying in_ revealing dress, made of sheer black chiffon that just barely covered to the tips of her thumbs. Not her _fingers_ her _thumbs_. If she wore that dress to Skool? SheÕd be kicked out in about ten seconds.

He could always teach her himself, but that would mean droping out on his own, too.

"S-sure." he forced out after he realized he had been staring stupidly for several mintes.

She walked in with a tray, on it was a glass of water for her and another of Irken soda for him.

"Thanks." he said. He knew it was drugged. She served it in a glass and it made it horribly obvious. He had to resist the urge to point and laugh, and he worried that resistance showed in his body language.

It did.

He could tell by the look on her face that she knew he knew and she was trying to make it look like it was not true. He knew it was drugged. He _now_ knew she had done this several times before back on Earth. And he was okay with that.

Besides, she was not _killing _him, she was deliberately using a small dose, even smaller than she normally gave him because she was not sure what this drug out do to him, and she was fairly certian she had the MassiveÕs medical staff on standby should he _actually_ be fatally poisoned. She _obviously_ did not want him out of the way for a secret randevous, because if she _did_ she would not be clinging too him so, and she would no be wearing the sheer nightdress Skoodge's "connections" had just scored for her

She, just like everybody else, cared about him, and she knew stress was bad for his health. But _unlike_ everyone else, she was the only one capable of a more... _feminine_ pursuasion.

He knew it was poisoned, and that probably made his slip into the relaxed half-sleep all the more peaceful. It sure as hell was not his head against her chest. That dress was really scratchy.

* * *

[1.] There are some things not even Skoodge can get his hands on, btw...

[2.] according of ffn, there is no correct way to spell that...

About two more weeks and Tak should wake up...

... Or will it be 100 years?

This delay was not because of college, it was becuase of the Society for Creative Anachornism. I went to one of their events, and spent several hours preparing for it.

And it was worth it.


	36. Chapter 36

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

I have encountered some trouble:

The microwave on the first floor does not work.

The microwave on the second floor has vanished.

There are now three flights of stairs between me and hot food.

Fuck my life. Fuck my roomie's life, fuck the life of the entire dorm!

* * *

Chapter thirty six: *rapid fire update, please make sure you've read chapter 35*

He still could not get a grip on flying. Still. And it did not help him one bit. Time was ticking away and he had yet to master healing to any major degree. He could take care of sprained ankles, broken wirsts, scrapes, bruises, sunburn, even! Dib rested his chin on his hand and sighed heavily, as he watched Alu (now free of sunburn) skip off to silently, he felt nothing but useless. He expected the kid bother Skoodge, and hear stories with the other kids in the heat of the day about smuggling drugs, duping other dealers, and the great epic of the guitar he had brought back for Aaron, but he did not. He dissapeared completely, probably to get _another_ sunburn while sitting beside Tak.

Dib did not even feel like doing that any more.

The former councelor in question was sitting elsewhere, under a diffrent tree deftly strumming away, filling the valleys with the ever-asked for 'Freebird.' At least, it was always asked for back on Earth. Dib could hardly believe Dwicky remembered how to play after, what, _seven_ years? Where had Skoodge even managed to get a guitar?

Dib desided not to worry about it. He leaned back agianst the wall of the new house and watched. No one was working now because it was so hot. Even Herr had said it was too hot to train, and Dib was trying to levitate on his own, but he had, time and time again, been interrupted by his visions of Tak.

And what made matters worse was that they haunted him at _night_ too. He was so tried, and yet he _knew _he had to keep training. But, he sympathized with Anikin a bit more now. Not much, but a bit. Enough to not feel guilty should he give up and turn to the dark side himself. Of course, he was pretty sure he had turned to the darkside _before_ had it had not had a pleasant out come. He was probably already in a grey area right now, not the right side of the force.

He listened to Skoodge talk and Dwicky play and he felt useless. He stared at his hand and willed it to glow. Gaz was progressing in leaps and bounds, and there was no device she could not master in at least ten minutes. Him? All he had magaged to do was shoot light from his fingers and heal a few minor injuries, regardless of how hard he tried or how deeply he concentraited. He was pretty damn useless. He could only heal _major_ injuries when his adrenaline was pumping so fiercely he had no idea what was going on. The chances of _that_ happening when Tak was giving birth? With his luck? Slim to none. Dib was certain of that.

He sat there, brooding, as the thriteen kids applauded Skoodge and Muse sat down beside Aaron, huddling close. GIR and Mimi came back from checking the perimeter, Zim and Gaz were hulled up inside. She still held a certain contempt for sunlight, she always had of course, but it increased after Dad's murder. Of course, she kept her mouth shut about it because it did not _actually_ cause her any more pain. Dib could not get enough light. Now he disliked the night. And he had never actually _done_ that before. It had just come with his powers. But he would not call it a set back or a weakness. It was just a pet peeve.

He rested his chin on his knees. No. That was his very problem. Something was holding him back and he could not for the life of him figure out what it was. It was not darkness. That was just silly. Maybe it was his fear? Anger? Hate?

The dark side?

Fuck you, George Lucas. Fuck you. Fuck the Jedi and fuck their religion. Emotions were some of the greatest things Dib had ever experianced, and they were _not_ evil.

He needed to stop with the Star Wars references. [1.]

But he could not. It was too perfect _not_ to make. I mean, maybe the _other_ half of Darth Vader's fall was the fact that everyone told him, 'you have emotions therefore you are destined to be evil.' and that was kind of mean thing to say to an eleven-year-old boy.

Face it. It was.

Of course, no one had ever said that to _him_. They just called him crazy because he had dared to believe in aliens. And look where they were. In bombshelters underground. Suffering. Maybe even dying. It was because he had chosen Tak over them in his uncontious mind. He had let them die.

No. Not it was _not_ his fault. There was nothing he could have done. Nothing at all.

And that was why he was useless.

He hoped they were all right. Hope was all he could do. He wondered once again who was alive and who was dead, and who would be sane after two years underground. It was not a pleasant thought, and his mind was filled with the horrible image for returning to Earth and finding nothing but dead bodies in the shelters. He shook the image out of his head and continued watching the scene play out before him. Eventually, Muse gave Aaron a light peck on the cheek and walked away. He stopped playing for a moment to watch her go, and Dib could tell, even from this distance, that he _really_ wanted to follow.

But he did not. He looked back at his guitar and started playing again, this time glumly.

Dib focused on him now, because when it came to options for talking about his problems, Aaron Dwicky, though a traitor, was his best bet. They guy had majored in _phychology_. Yeah, okay, maybe his specialty was _child_ psychology, but he probably knew a thing or two about _adult_ phychology, too. Dib got to his feet. He was pretty sure eighteen was considered Ñ

Nineteen.

Dib froze mid-step.

He was nineteen.

He must have turned it a few weeks ago. Or maybe he had not turned nineteen yet, and it was really in a few weeks, but he was pretty sure it was coming up soon. That meant that Gaz would be _seventeen_ a while afterwards. It hit him like a lead weight. He was nineteen. Fucking _nineteen_. Alexander had taken over the known world at thirty, or something like that. Dib was only nineteen and he had seen it practically torn to pieces.

Dwicky stoped playing. Dib became aware that the older human's eyes were on him, and he continued walking to the ex-guidance councelor. He asked a very stupid question as he stood before him in the shade, "Can we talk?"

"Sure!" Dwicky said. He resumed playing, though, this time a little softer, his fingers dancing on the tight strings. Dib watched, struck, and he wondered just what all he did not know. "What seems to be the trouble?"

There was another long moment of silence as Dib watched the other group to their right, remembering when he had once been a child himself. Maybe he still was, but he knew he could no longer act like it. The weight of everything pressed down on his shoulders he felt so dissy for a moment, and eventually he lay down with a heavy groan. Dwicky stopped playing agian, and looked over to Dib, obviously conerned.

"That looks like depression."

"I wouldn't know, I've never been to college."

Clearly, he did not see the connection, "Ah, yes."

"I never _will_ get to go to college." He said, staring up at the leaves, "I never actually _wanted_ too, either, but now that I can't, because their all blown up... I really want too. Or, at least I wanted Zim to go to a nice university, the irony here is that Zim alreayd _knows_ everything."

Dwicky chuckled, "Feeling inferior?"

"If Zim had these powers, _he'd_ know how to use them."

"Ah."

"I'm not doing any better." Dib answered, reaching his hand out to the sunlight. Gaz did not like sunshine after Dad's murder, Dib could hardly get enough of it, it seemed. He disliked the dark so much more now, "I can shoot _light from my hands_ and I can't get a grasp on flying."

"It sounds like you're upset by this." Aaron said absent mindedly. He had resumed playing lazily. Probably just screwing around and improvising. Dib got the feeling Dwicky was not _actually _listening to him.

"_Dwicky_!"

"I'm _sorry_!" he replied, "I am a _child_ phychologist. Once they hit puberty I don't have a clue what the problem could be."

"That sounds kind of—"

"—Shut up, Dib. I know." he said, "But I _do_ remember a little about adult psych. I'll see what I can do."

Dib watched him continue to strum his guitar, and he slowed down, and was humming a melody Dib did not know. He raised his hand to motion for Dib to kep talking to himself while he listened halfway. Dib remained silent, until he saw that Dwicky was not going to put the guitar down for anything.

"I keep having these _dreams._" Dib said, "That Tak's dying and I can't save her."

"Sound to me like a bad Star Wars reference."

"Dwicky!"

"Sorry!"

"I already made that joke."

"Oh..." but he was now playing the imperial march. On a guitar. He was such an incurable nerd, but he did contribute to the conversation a little, "How have you been feeling lately? Not feeling encouraged, are we?"

"No." Dib shook his head, "No one's put me down recently. It seems they only want to build me up. But I feel like the praise is all empty. I... I just feel like I am not doing enough. Like, I;m trying to do too much at once, but at the same time I know I'm hardly doing anything. I feel so useless. I never help any of you out because I'm alwayas training, unless the two over lap, like the time I healed Tommy's sprained ankle, but I _can't_ do any better. Every time I try to do something, I... I always remember what I did in the past, how I nearly killed _everyone_ with out even realising it—"

The music stopped for a second and Aaron let that sink in, then he resumed playing. Dib continued talking, "I... I went ballistic and killed several people. I'm terrified I'll do it again, Mr. Dwicky."

"Post traumatic Stress Disorder?"

"Now you're just being a dick."

Dwicky laughed, "But it sounds to me like you're afraid of letting your powers get out of your control. [2.]"

"I just _said_ that."

"Right." Aaron replied, "Part of my job is stating the obvious. Is this anxiety or depression?"

"Both!"

Aaron did not really respond. A breeze kicked up, blowing the leaves in the tree and letting the light hit his face. He let a small, encouraging thought reach him. The trees looked the same. He could close his eyes, listen to the laughter of children and pretend he was back on Earth, and suddenly, things did not seem so bad.

"Is... Is is _possible_ to have both?"

"Comorbidity? Yes. But the good news is you _probably_ don't have anything. You're just really down right now."

"My home planet's been destoryed. My girlfriend's in a coma. If I don't figure out a way to get myself out of this rut then I'll never advance in my training quick enough to be there when she really needs me. My sister's sleeping with my frenemy and I hate refering to him like that because it sounds stupid. My Dad's been murdered. I never knew my mother. I never even knew him. And I just realized today, I must have turned nineteen. I don't know what day it is on Earth. I don't know what time it is. I don't know if any of my friends are alive. Suddenly, living for three hundred years or more seems like a bad thing. And you say I'm just 'down'?"

"You're bad off, but this probably isn't chronic."

"But what if it is?"

"That kind of thinking will _make_ it stick, you know."

"What if she never comes back? I'll live forever _with out_ her." Dib turned toward him.

Aaron did not say anything, his fingers froze and a sour chord brushed softly past him. His face was unreadable. Solid and blank. Dib sat up and turned to him, "What's Muse's past?"

There was a flicker. Jealousy, maybe. Possibly anger. Dib got the feeling it was more fear than anything else. Dwicky looked past him, towards Skoodge, and DibÕs mind's eye picked up a flash of something. He heard gunshots. Screaming. He saw Dwicky forced to one knee, one arm twisted behind his back. Dib was terrfied. Honestly terrfied. Blood was running down the ex-counselor's arm and his his hand tightened on his cane to cope with pain and gather his courage.

That was a long time from now. When he was older. Much older than he was now. When his hair was greying. Maybe it was all just a false vision. A paraniod lie told by his own mind. Please let it be so.

He was not dead yet. Someone was angry about that. They were walking forward, willing now to get their hands dirty. Dib saw their face for a moment. They looked important. Powerful. Maybe even were speaking. Dib could not understand what they were saying, but Aaron could. His reply was quick, spiteful. He learned the language, implying he had been there for several years. The people around him were pale blue, they must have been Camrane.

The Camrane said something quick and biting in return, and with an angry shout, Dwicky stepped forward, swinging his cane up and jamming it into his attacker's throat.

"DIB!" Dib felt that same cane jab into his side lightly, "You've gone pale, is everything okay?"

He was more than _pale_. He was shaking and breathing heavily. He could not see anything for a while, but when the world came into focus, he was looking at the sky again.

"Nothing." Dib replied, "Its nothing."

He may be depressed, but he knew better than to blurt out 'You're going to be killed!' and then commence to disclose the details. That would just be terrible, so he just allowed himself to ramble, "I see things. Every now and then I think about home and I see that every one's dead. I see _Tak_ dying every night and ever day and its a wonder I don't see Zim and Gaz getting killed off or something like that. I can't tell what's a paraniod vision and an honest premonition. I— I mean, why can't I see _good_ things? Like coming back to earth and finding everyone's alive and well and we don't actually_ need_ the Meekrob to monitor our every move. Or that the bombs actually contained experimental flower seeds and every thing's green and pretty and... And why can't I see happy things?"

"I... I don't know." Dwicky admitted, "But maybe, just as Gaz's weakness is external light, yours is your own self-loathing."

"I am a huge jerk."

"Yes." He started slowly, "You _are_, but you can't constantly remind yourself that you are."

Dib frowned at him.

"What? Look, okay, so you were a tiny inturment of destruction as a kid, and you're afraid you'll be an even bigger one _now_... That didn't help, did it?"

"No."

"Look, I've never worked with teenagers before, let alone ones that can shoot light from their hands.Ó Dwicky said with a warm smile, "You seem on track to me."

"To _you!" _Dib replied, "But its _not where I need to be_. Gaz—"

"You sister's powers are different." Dwicky reminded him, "Much diffrent than your own."

"If the only thing standing in my way is the memory of the past, how can I let it go? I'll be a danger again, won't I?"

Aaron did not say anything. Dib knew, deep down, it was because the answer was yes. He heaved a sigh, and got to his feet, trudging past the applauding cloud of younger teenagers — and he had to remind himself that he was not a teenager — towards the temple that they had lived previously. No one had seen any reason to move Tak. She was already in the perfect spot, according to all of the other Irkens. The pattern of light and dark gave her a sort of tide-like cycle, allowing for intermitent periods of comatose inactivity and something akin to catatonic awareness.

Yes, Dib understood those words, but they did did nto make any sence and he hated that they had to be used in reference to Tak.

He continued walking, and he was able to see the temple rise just over the next hill, and he heard something running ahead of him. He stopped, unsure of why. He knew it was Alu. He knew enough to assume Alu had gone to watch Tak, so he _knew_ this had something to do with Tak. He should just run to her, because she needed him right now. She needed everyone, but if he managed to get their first, so be it.

He ran strait into his legs, nearly knocking him off his feet, but he managed to clumsily catch him.

"She's waking up!"

Dib stared stupidly.

"She's stuck. She's..." he tumbled over thewords, as if he just realised that he was speaking. _Dib_ was just confused that he could speak _English,_ maybe he had just picked it up by immersion. Whatever. Tak was awake and Alu was talking. That was great! That was amazing! That—

"She's _dying_."

— was horrible. Dib ran past him, too focused to comprehend what was going on around him. The ground almost did not exist any more. The landscape around him was a green blurr. He felt the wall of the monolith before his hands and he was _climbing_ the surface, despite the fact that he could not really find any holds in the stone.

No. He was flying. It was just for a second. Just until he had reached Tak. Alu was right. She was awake. Muffled noises were coming from inside her crysalis, and cracks were appearing in the shell, all she had to do was move to break herself free. But she was not. With a chill Dib realized that she _could not_ and those noises were her struggling to _breathe. _He had to free her himself, but with what?

He had a pocket knife. He took it out and opened the blade with his teeth, jamming it into the closest hairline fracture to her mouth, deepening the split and forcing an entire section free. It was not difficult from there, he was able to slip his fingers between the shell and her skin and tear it away from her face. The first sound of her breath was painful to even listen too, it was rasping and shallow. Fast. She was still struggling, panting, even. That shell was like a corset, she still could not breathe because she was crammed so tightly into it.

"It's going to be alright, Tak, don't panic!"

All he got in return was a shallow breath.

The rest was easy. Her skin was secreting some kind of lubricant now, that weakened the inner layer of crysalis and let it pop off easily, and soon her arms were free and she could sit up on her own. He slid the shell away from her hands easily, and wondered if it was strange that he wanted to keep this stuff to study it. He stopped, captivated, as she reached her hands up to her head and dug her claws between her skin and the shell, and like a mask being peeled away, slowly removed it. More of the sticky, almost glue-like substance came away with it and coated her skin, which she was trying to wipe away with her hands, to no avial, because they were just as coated as the rest of her skin. With out thinking, Dib stripped off his shirt and wiped the mess away.

She seemed to notice for the first time that he was there. Their eyes locked for a moment, at it took all of his strength not to kiss her right then. Were her eyes more beautiful, or had he simply missed her so much? Why was she staring at him like she did not even know him? Had she forgotten most things in that month-long sleep? Had she forgotten everything?

"Tak?"

She jumped back as he reached for her, but her legs were still trapped, so he had to move twice as fast in order to catch her.

"Tak, say something. Anything!"

He wanted her to say she remembered him, and she loved him, and she forgave him. He wanted her to tell him to take her far away so that Red could never use her to perserve and strengthen the Irken race. He wanted her to ask about Alu and about Gaz and Zim.

But she did not. It was like she already knew she could not. Something clattered to the stone below. Dib let her go to pick it up. It was her PAK. Terrfied, he tried to put it back on, only to find that there were two neat little scars where there were once metal-rimmed holes. He stared at the scars and wondered if she was going to die in ten minutes, or if she was going to continue living past that.

He saw two crumpled wings unfurling on her back, drying now that they were exposed to sunlight.

She was peeling the shell around her legs away now, and when she was freed to her knees, she shakily stepped out and stood for a few seconds, just a beautiful as he remembered her.

And then suddenly, she was not. She was an entirely new creature. Her wings and eyes sparkled with hints of silver and red in the light. Her antennae had grown and were now adorned with soft, black hairs, more like a moth's than anything. The black lines every Irken had around their eyes had grown on her, they were now drawn back, curling down to her lips and back over her head, so that his attention was drawn to her face, time and time again.

Every bit of hear-say Zim had heard was right, and so much more. She was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it. Her eyes drew him in and never let him go. They had done that _before_ of course, but now he knew that _nothing_ could distract him.

He stumbled forward blindly, transfixed.

She slapped him.

Same old Tak.

He stared at her, frozen. Maybe she honestly did not remember. They kept of their contest for quite some time. He could tell by the look on her face that she remembered him in some degree, that much was obvious. She just could not figure it out. Or maybe she _did_ she just could not believe it. He stepped forward slowly, trying not to frighten her.

She was shaking horribly. Dib held out one had for her, she looked at it, intrigued and terrfied, and took one step back. Her legs could not support her own weight any more, they gave way under her, making her crumble over the stones. He rushed forward to help her sit up again, picking her up and setting her down on the cleanest bit of stone he could find, throwing his t-shirt over her shoulders.

She seemed to remember his shirt. She picked up the fabric and her antenna traced the material. She closed her eyes and smiled, drawing it closer to her, but she showed no favorable reaction to _him. _Just his shirt.

So she did not remember? He had _wanted_ to forget he past. This was one sure-fire way to let her forget. Still, he asked, "Do you remember me?"

The smile dropped from her face and she looked up at him. Still, she did not say a word. She looked him over for a long moment, judging by the expression on her face she was both curious and confused. Eventually, the grin returned to her lips and she raised her hand to his face. He clung to her wrist and let himself cry out with joy as he kissed her fingers. He roughly pulled her close to him and threw his arms around her waist. It was the only place he could grab her with out having to worry about her wings. Her legs were shaking soon after that, and her hands were biting down on his shoulders, but aside from a little gasp she made no noise.

His shirt had fallen away from her shoulders and her bare chest was now pressing against his. He tried not to let that get to him, but he had been with out her for months and... Well, it was difficult to put it nicely. She was shaking again. Aparently, she did not even have the strength to briuse his shoulders anymore. Before she could collapse again, he scooped her up and carried her over the rubble to the stair well.

He had been fully prepared to carry her all the way back, but he was stopped by a small group of the others about halfway. One of them was Gaz, with a clean set of clothes. One of them was Purple, who only seemed to be there to help Tak get dressed. The third was Alu. Tak literally tumbled out of Dib's arms and held her hands out to him as he ran to her.

Dib felt a little envious as Tak pulled him into her lap and showered him with kisses.

But only a little.

He walked up with his hands in his pockets, as Gaz waited around for Tak to separate herself from her charge and get dressed. Purple caught his eye and they met just barely with in earshot. Purple was grinning a little triumphantly, which was _strange_ because he had not really done anything aside from show up.

"I just though you should know," He said softly, "Red wanted to get there first. I'm glad you did, though."

"Why?"

"He has this silly little theory, that everything he does is right. He thinks the first person Tak saw would be the one she would have her heart set on mating with. I don't know if he was right or not, but its _still_ best you were the first one."

"That would have been convenient for _him_."

"You'll have to forgive him." Now that his message was delivered, Purple began to float back to Tak and Alu, "I don't think he was right, anyway."

Dib wondered where Massive was, so he could glare properly at Red, but he got a little pride with the mental image of Red furiously glaring at their image on a monitor. He had been thwarted. Again. Or maybe he had _let_ himself be thwarted because it suited his master plan.

Tak held out her hands to him. Her fingers spread so they might intertwine with his. He knelt down in the grass beside her and he easily forgot about Red.

* * *

[1.] Yes. Yes I _am _witing that 'everything would just be so much better if Anikin had just taken birthing classes' fic. What made you notice I just can't resist?

[2.] Taking an abnormal phych class does _not_ qualify you to diagnose your friends and family. My teacher said nothing about fictional characters.

Now excuse me, I have to climb three flights of stairs for lunch.


	37. Chapter 37

Meta-Morphine.

(Dislaimed.)

Girls on second floor steal first floor's microwave that does not work.

First floor gets new microwave.

SUCK IT!

* * *

Chapter thirty seven:

Such an irony, that she should lose her voice for him to gain his own.

"Yeah, Dib, I'm telling you, they're _gone_."

"I don't believe you." Dib said, gently nudging Zim aside and taking the light from his hands. Tak rolled her eyes as he stared down her throat.

But she honestly could _not_ talk. Zim had examined her! And when he could not believe what he had seen he examined her _again._ Her vocal chords had just up and disintegrated. They were gone. Nothing. Nada. Where they should be tehre were a series of fine hairs, and if she concentrated, she could make little chirping or hissing sounds, like a cicada's song, and if she tried really, really hard she could even make a low hum.

Everyone looked at her in bewilderment when she tried, so she stopped trying when others were in the room. After all, she did not like being stared at. But, at least she was wearing clothes now, and her skin was not coated in that nasty, oily _stuff_ that Dib had tried vainly to wipe away. It was an unforgiveable substance, that stained everything red when it dried, not, like, a _blood_ red, but red, a great deal of fabric had been ruined thanks to that stuff.

Now _Dib_ was making the poor Irken check a _third_ time, because he honestly could not grasp that things _changed_.

Did he check three times when _he_ went through puberty? Or his sister? Perhaps he _had_. She did not want to know.

She could breathe easily again when Dib finally backed away, obviously worried and upset by the fact that she could not talk, "C-can't you do something?"

"'Do something?'" Zim repeated, "Her _vocal cords are gone_ and you expect me to _do something?_ Thats like expecting Red to _not_ pull a fast one."

While they argued, Tak fiddled with the end of her antenna, running her fingers over the long, fine, strong hairs. She expected them to make some demand of her, like tell her to uncover her stomach so Zim could do a second ultrasound so he could double check the diagrams he had made of her reproductive system, to tell her to change clothes because they wanted to do a message to all of Irk's citizens alongside her Tallests for 'morale.' They expected so _much_ from her these days! She could hardly stand it! Eventually, she gave up waiting. If they wanted her back, they could come and fetch her. If they did not, they could leave her be. Either way, Tak was fine with it.

She walked down the stairs to see Gaz working on something. There were data chips and spare silicone and several little wires spread before her. She was staring at them, one data chip and a metal pin in her hand, frowning. Her long, dark hair was tied and clipped back out of her eyes, except for one strand of it, which hung over her shoulder and was floating up wards, until it connected with the metal pin. Sparks flew where the metal touched the silicon.

She closed her eyes, focusing. Eventually, she frowned in frustration, picked up an electronic note pad, and looked at a series of dots and dashes that came up, as well as the corresponding syllables and characters. Tak recognized it as Deep Space Standard Morse code, and that was quite a bit for a human to wrap their head around. She felt a deep surge of pride for Gaz, attempting to program something so complex into a computer.

Then she frowned, realizing that meant Gaz was very far along with her training. To have made it to that point so fast, where she _could _program things with her mind, it was a strange thing. It was also a bad thing. That meant she would reprogram Mothercontrol faster, and that probably meant Red would force her to breed faster.

How much Tak had missed, though! Gaz had made it so far, who knew about Dib? He had previous experience with his powers, and he was the smarter of the two. He was probably on his way to becoming a formidable force.

There was a Meekrob hovering beside her. Tak heard him plainly say, "You're doing very well, Gaz. Most people have to go to college to learn what you can do on instinct, you should be ver—"

"You're voice is distracting." She said quickly, "And I need to get this done, before—"

Then she looked up quickly, turned around, yelped once she saw Tak there, and hid it behind her back, "Don't look! It's a surprise!"

Tak crossed her arms.

"D-don't tell anyone." She said. Tak could see she was thinking on the spot to cover something, "E-especially not Zim. Even if you _can't_ tell anyone. Don't let on that you know. Don't even make eyecontact with anyone any more. Or... Or I'll destroy you, or, something."

What was she doing, then?

"I've got nothing to hide." She said plainly, "This is a test to see how much I've learned. And I've learned a lot. What I do with the finished product is up to me."

Her eyes flicked to something for a moment, and Tak followed that slight glance to what looked like a circlet, but it was not, there was a little compartment for a small computer inside, about two inches by two inches, then one inch of depth. It would probably fit around someone's head, though, just above the brow bone, with the compartment on the left side, about halfway back.

Gaz snatched it up and hid it behind her back, "Go away, it's a surprise."

_Then you might not want to work on it in the middle of everything_. Tak thought with a smirk. Gaz glowered at her for a moment, but it was defensive, not aggressive. Tak eventually shrugged, turned and left.

"You're doing a good thing." Tak heard the Meekrob say, "Keep going."

She walked out of the house and out into the sunlight giving her wings a good stretch, and her arms, just to make sure. She could not fly yet, and Zim did not know whether it was because her wings were not strong enough, or if they _could_ never be strong enough. She certainly hoped not. She looked up at the clouds and wondered foolishly what it would be like to join them.

Of course, if she _did_ the atmospheric pressure would be too low and the air would not be able to support her weight. A tragedy for any aspiring poet wishing for wings, but scientific fact, regardless. With this reminder in hand she took her eyes away from the heavens and returned them to the green Earth.

Except she did not see the green.

She saw Tallest Red.

Fuck that.

She turned around abruptly. She did not bother pretending that she had not seen him. There woudl be no point in that. No. In fact, she made sure he saw that she _did_ see him, and he saw her walking away from him, because she could no longer tell him to buzz off any more. Body language was all she had.

"Tak."

She kept walking.

"Tak!" he repeated, more persistently this time.

She kept walking. She did not look back at him. She was looking around for Alu now. It seemed that in her absence the others had gotten quite adept at passing him from one eye to the next, so that every time she was drawn away for an emergency medical examination, he was gone. She huffed angrily.  
"Tak!"

Red grabbed her wrist and jerked her around, forcing her to meet his eyes.

_Is that supposed to be a turn on?_ she wanted to remark wittily, _An I supposed to be entranced?_

He stared at her, as if he expected her to say something, his grip loosened on her wrist and he eventually said, "So it's true, what Purple tells me? You can't speak?"

She wanted to kick him, but his body was made of metal, so she if she had, she only would have hurt him. Besides, she was still weak from living on photosynthesis, so she really would not do much damage to a regular body in the first place. She jerked her hand from his arm and walked away again.

"Tak!"

She felt a hand on her harm. Hissing furiously, she turned around and raised her hand in a fist, ready to strike. The person that had grabbed her yelped and ducked. Red was now a few yards away. It had been Dib who had grabbed her. Tak uncurled her fist and brushed off his hand. She could forgive him. He had not deliberately put her in this situation. She glared at Red coldly as Dib walked away with her.

"If you're looking for Alu he's on that new ship Skoodge brought the other day."

She raised an eyebrow.

"... You're going to want to kill him."

_Which one, Skoodge or Alu_?

As if she had spoken, Dib answered, "Both, and while you're at it you might as well maim me."

_Pray tell?_

Dib just laughed, "Skoodge was only trying to help. Obviously, Alu missed you quite a bit. He was really down for those last few days, so, just to cheer him up, Skoodge promised him a ship."

Tak scoffed.

"I know, I know. What would an eight year old want with a ship? Good question. I... I say we let him have it, when he's sixteen, of course."

She was pretty damn sure he could tell by the look on her face that she was _not_ happy with that statement.

"Or..." Dib started, he glanced back and she could tell by the angry flicker in his eyes that Red was still there. He draped an arm around her shoulders, mindful of her wings, and quickened his pace, "Or, maybe... Eighteen."

She elbowed him in the side.

"Surely you don't expect him to wait until he's nineteen?"

She pushed him off and crossed her arms, turning away from him too because she could not say a damn thing and she hated it.

"Surely not twenty!"

She wondered how Alu had managed it, and how _anyone_ who was mute managed it. It was damn near impossible. What was going to happen when she literally _could not_ say no? What then?

She sighed and brushed his arm off of her shoulders, walking on. She was now more determined than ever to find Alu. She wished she could give him a sound scolding, but she could not. She never would be able too. Maybe she could put her hands on her hips and hiss reproachfully.

Dib followed for a while, then out of the corner of her eye she saw him shake his head and walk off, muttering something about training. She did not like to see him leave (Red might come back) but she did not bother to make him stay. What would he do? Try to convince her to let Alu become a criminal? Like she needed that!

She could not find anyone, but she remembered there was always work to be done, so she went out into the field, hoping to find Tommy or someone who could give her a few orders and put her to work. Perhaps Alu was there, hiding.

Perhaps not, of course.

Tak did not find him. She found Muse, watering the plants. Tak felt like laughing, but didn't. It was only her there, so it was a case of the mute ordering the mute. Tragic, but funny. Having nothing to do, she just sort of stood there, knowing that this was a good learning experience for her, and that they would eventually get a system that worked for them.

Tak knew she should have learned sign language.

There were exchanged glances for a few minutes. Their eyes met and she glanced away shyly several times. Eventually, her face began to gain a purple hue and Tak knew she was blushing. With this, Tak felt her _own_ face darkening and she looked away, focusing on the dirt.

It was pretty damn tragic that they couldn't speak. It made her feel like the two of them had absolutely no control. Like, fate was a bitch that wanted to take away the voices of every other bitch so they would stop calling her out or something like that, or in this semi-agrarian society nature wanted to force them to obey some misogynistic status quo and Gaz would bite off her own tongue in a freak seizure and—

"I think now is a good time to say... I'm not actually mute."

Tak drew in a raping breath, so quick that the fine fibers in her throat actually tickled as she gaped.

"No." she answered at the unspoken question, "Never have been. Of course, _Aaron_ knows, the _others_ know. We've just seen no reason to inform any you your camp about the goings on of _ours_... Don't give me that look. It's nothing personal."

She was very monotone. Her voice was soft, never rising above a whisper. She sounded pretty high-and-mighty, too. Not in a purely conceited way, though. She did not get a kick out of getting under Tak's skin. She glanced over briefly, their eyes meeting again for just a second. This time, it was Tak who looked away first, realizing that it was truly awkward to meet someone's eyes that she hardly had gotten a chance to know.

"Might I recommend a writing tablet?" Muse continued, "It's not a quick as conversation, but it _will_ get the message across. Sort of. There is always the possibility of it getting torn apart in front of your face by that... that _Red_ character. You know the one."

Tak nodded and grinned.

"He's not a nice man."

Tak shook her head.

"Purple is much more considerate."

Again, she nodded.

"But Dib's sweet, too, of course."

She looked at Muse again, and she looked back, realized that was a topic Tak did not want to linger on, cleared her throat, and changed the subject, "We could not have asked for better weather. It's going to rain tomorrow."

Tak looked up at the sky and frowned. She hated rain. She couldn't go outside an do anything in the rain. She would be cooped up, while the others had to work. She sighed heavily, she would feel useless. She supposed they had managed on their own without her every day, though. Gaz would not have time to work on her surprise, though, whatever it was. It was probably for Zim or something.

Or, some sort of personal radio for herself that by passed headphones entirely. Something. She had some plan.

"You don't have to stand there." Muse said, "I don't really need your help."

Tak looked back to her, frowned, shrugged, and walked on, remembering her search for Alu was still going on. She could turn back, because she knew he would return when he was hungry, but _Red_ was probably there waiting for her, and she did not want to deal with him. She continued her solitary march towards the monolith she had spent her metamorphosis in. She glanced up at it occasionally, and she wondered what Red would do with it. Making it into a holy site or something? Found a religion for her?

Jerk.

She had to sit down, then. Apparently, she was still weak from her lack of a proper diet. She could have lasted a hundred years on photosynthesis, but that would have been a diet of pure sugar, and even Irkens need something aside from pure sugar. She was no different. She half expected Zim to spring out at odd intervals and force her to eat something, but he never did.

She was breathing heavily now. She laid back against the grass and felt a chemical reaction along her skin, like her cells were unfolding to the sunlight. Apparently, she had kept the chloroplasts, and could use them ever she needed too, but they were not really under her control. It was simply where ever there was sunlight and she was weary, they would arm themselves. It was a phenomenon Zim was interested on monitoring. He had theorized that they would eventually die off, and he was keen on testing it.

Which meant nothing but more regular tests.

Tak closed her eyes and let her strength return.

Eventually, she heard the sound of a small singer-passenger vessel overhead. She opened her eyes and looked towards the sound, which was coming just above the hill and to her right. She knew who it was before he had even opened the plexiglass screen.

_Alu!_

Tak got to her feet and crossed her arms, glaring at her own reflection in the glass. Eventually, the screen rose and he waved, "It's just like the controls of your old one." He remarked proudly, "It's not hard to fly at all."

Well, no, not hard to fly if he was not actually in space. She could tell him this, but knew she could not. She saw Skoodge was right behind him, and he looked somewhat ashamed of himself. Tak crossed her arms, of course, this was the first time she had seen him since he had promised Alu a ship, and probably his own flunkies to go along with it. She fumed about it for a bit, but could not really do much aside from frown darkly. They both looked away from her. She let the feeling of triumph show in her face, then she walked away. She heard someone jump out, eager for her attention.

"Wait!" Alu said, tugging on her sleeve, "Skoodge says he's going to let me tour the ship today!"

_He was so... normal. _Always so eager, but he had always been eager. It was just now, he was more vocal. Tak caught Skoodge's eye and the little Irken flushed a darker green.

"I-I'm sorry about that, Tak." Skoodge said, trying to defend himself, "I... I was just trying to cheer him up and... Well, I can't really tell him _no_. Look how happy he is."

"Oh, Mom, Pleeeeeeease?"

He seemed to think that by calling her 'Mom' he could win her over. She put her hands on her hips and hissed. She was _not_ his mother. Guardian, yes. Mother? Quite. Obviously. Not. Of course, he must have been calling her than in his own head for at least a year now, possibly more. How long had she known him? A little over a year?

"It's his sweet sixteen present."

"I'll only do good things, Mom." he said, "I promise. I'll only steal from slave traders and corrupt politicians and I'll bring you gifts every time I return."

She gave his ear a light twist.

_Oh! How I wish I could speak, so that I might scold you! What I would not give for enhanced mental abilities of my _own_!_

"Ow! Ow! Stop it!" she let him go and he backed away, a hand to his ear, "If you want to come up and tour it with us—"

"—You can check the safety features and stealth abilities. They're state-of-the-art."

By the time Alu was sixteen, those state of the art features would be obsolete, there may even be police ships with features that counter-acted those features, but perhaps they were easily updated, or perhaps Skoodge was just under the impression that science was beyond improvement or the ship was just plain perfect. But it was not. It could not be.

Perhaps he was in league with the Tallests to off the poor child early. Perhaps not. Skoodge was not that kind of person. Perhaps he would just set him loose in some uninhabited, unused sector of the galaxy and let him grow to believe that space pirating was really a dull and boring profession.

But Alu was never one to sit still and follow orders, so the plan would backfire, he would fly to the nearest political and economic epicenter and raise hell.

He'd do her proud, but he'd probably get himself killed.

"It will take your mind off things." Skoodge finally offered, "Why don't you come along?"

She shrugged and nodded, but wondered how the hell she was going to manage to fit in the small ship with just the two of them, but she was actually beamed aboard along with Alu, Skoodge and the small ship. Unlike the Massive, the beaming pad was right next to the hanger, and the ship was just wheeled away into place.

The first place they went was the bridge, where the two males and one female stood up and saluted (apparently, Skoodge ran his ring like a military, no surprise there) Skoodge gave them an offhand wave and they resumed their dull work again. Tak sat down herself (she was still tired, it was horrible) and watched Skoodge guide Alu around, explaining the communications system and the defense measures, including a small course on how to read the radar, which could determine not only the speed, position, and predict a destination, but it could tell him the origin and numbers of those on board, and what the ship was supposed to be doing.

It used hacking to work, apparently, but it did not leave any tale-tell signs behind like viruses, unless system-wide sabotage was what you wanted, in which case it was capable of sending pretty powerful bugs to ships with in range.

There was a Plookesian vessel that was used for trade patrol in the area, normally this would mean abandoning orbit, but this time Skoodge did not order any retreats. There was another, too. An unregistered spy ship. Very small. Hardly a threat, it was combing space a full twenty systems away. Skoodge only pointed it out to show the range of the radar.

He then pointed out that alu would be able to search the ships on radar according to origin, destination and assignment, if he were in a high-traffic sector of space, and if he knew the registration number and origin, he would be able to locate any ship he wanted too, and if he just passed a vessel of interest even once, he could hack into it and get the registration number.

He would also have the ability set up satellites to monitor various planets, and they would transmit information back to the ship. Unfortunately, it was new, so none of the stations had been set up.

It would be nice to say that she found some hole in the security, some safety feature that she did not approve of, something about the galley that proved unsatisfactory, but she could not. It was not perfect, but it was not exactly a hell hole, either. Besides, who was to say it was not some silly fantasy Skoodge was just indulging. He would grow up. He would change his mind, unless something horrible happened that steadied his resolve. And what was the likely hood of that?

Slim to none, she was certain. And even if it did happen, he was in pretty good hands. Skoodge might actually buy him a new ship when he turned sixteen, or perhaps part of the challenge would be his obsolete technology. Perhaps she was over thinking things.

Besides, the ship might even be destroyed. Not with them on it, of course. Skoodge did not expect it to sit there and collect dust, did he? No, a ship like that was useful. Skoodge would use it, and he could not guarantee it would survive another eight years or so. In fact, he had _no_ way of guaranteeing it would last so long.

Tak returned to the house with Alu in tow. He kept talking on about how proud he would make her, and for once that entire day, she wished he could not talk again, but she reminded herself that he had to sleep and she did not, so she would have a few hours of peace, and it was simply youthful enthusiasm. He would grow. Eventually.

She noticed that Gaz was gone, and nearly everything was swept off of the coffee table, with the exception of one sheet of paper. Curious, and mindful of her wings, she sat down on the couch and picked it up, wondering if it had anything to do with her little project.

It was a diagram of a brain. Tak frowned, read the line at the top, _Diagram of possible sections of Tak's brain. _Then the boxed off notes _References are the human brain and various other races. This stuff is all pretty consistent, anyway. If you want I can take her to the Massive and do a scan, but we don't really have the proper equipment for it (we don't actually have brains, you know, but Tak must, otherwise, she would have died shortly after emerging.)_

_I think the idea of translating from Irken, into Morse, then back into a spoken language is too complicated. I don't want you to get over your head. Try just one step, but you realize you probably can't make a machine understand spoken language with only brain waves. I'm a scientist, or I was, anyway, but I don't remember any research like this. Still, if you manage it, I'll have to reassure myself of my masculinity by claiming it was my idea._

_... Well, you know how it is._

_But even if it does not work, I'm pretty sure Tak will be glad you tried._

Tak grinned to herself, and set the sheet of paper down like she had found it. Fortunately, Alu had not seen her pick it up. She considered getting to her feet, but she was too tired to do it, anyway. She looked ktowards the rain clouds, her smile fading just a little, but only so anyone who walked in would be suspect she knew anything about a surprise.

* * *

Soooooo many important announcements!

First off, new computer! It's not a Mac, it's a Toshiba, but I'm still having troubles (cough, can't play Amnesia, cough). Still, the troubles I am having are much less than the ones I had with the Mac, and I have internet in my dorm, so, provided I am not in class or sleeping, I am on-call 24/7 again, and uploading chapters is a breeze now. Guess what? No little O's with symbols above them! Woot!

Secondly, remember that poll I had up? Well, back then Meta-morphine was supposed to be a hell of a lot shorter than it is back then, so yeah, I'm closing the poll later, but the good news is I am doing both Twelve and Dust, but because of the poll's results, I will probably put more effort into Dust, because more people wanted to see that.

Speaking of polls, there is a user called Poodlebrain who is running the usual popularity poll. He reviews sometimes. Go comb for him because I am too lazy to post a link.

Expect to see a fic called 'Dream Stick' up soon. I don't know when, but, soon. Maybe even today. I dunno.

NO YOU CANNOT HAZ POLT NAO.


	38. Chapter 38

Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

"I really need to update my fanfiction."

"_Yeah?"_

"Meh, I'll do it on Monday."

"_BITCH! Monday was two days ago!_"

(cheddarbiscuit would like to point out that Monday was actually three days ago, but her internet went out.)

* * *

Chapter thirty eight:

"Gaz what are you working on?" Dib asked as he walked with Zim down the stairs.

"It's a surprise!" she and Zim exclaimed at the same time. Zim even jumped from the stairs to block the table so he could not see the various pieces of dissected gizmo in front of her. Dib stared at her, then at him, sighed heavily, and walked on. He looked depressed, but Gaz did not comment on it out loud, that would only make him more depressed. He walked into the kitchen and she heard him rummaging around, he was largely ignored.

They waited until they were certain he was gone to keep talking.

"You know," Zim told her, "You really shouldn't work on that here. Dib and Tak _were_ too likely to see."

"I know." Gaz replied, "I know, but I got the idea and I just had to start working, especially after _Red _was so quick to bring the materials."

"—Nicest thing he's done all trip." Zim commented, sitting down beside her, "So, how goes it?"

"Pretty good, I managed to get the different Morse Codes in by linking one chip to the other directly, which beats having to learn it."

"Smart."

"And now I'm putting the babblefish chip in."

"How is she going to control all of this? Brainwaves?" Zim asked, "Are you sure it will work?"

"Well, that's where you come in." she said, "I took your advice, you know, skipping the translation into audio again, "It needs to be programmed to—"

"One flaw." Zim replied. He pointed at his own head, "Under-developed brain."

"Well, damn." Gaz sulked, "You're right. I forget some times."

He sighed. Trying to cheer her up, he said, "Well Tak _is_ walking around with out a PAK. She might be able to do it. We'll give her and intelligence test to make sure she can use this thing, even if it does not work."

"That seems so rude." Gaz grumbled, "But, you're right. It can't work with a brain that is not there."

"Well, yes, it is. It's very rude, but the Massive does not have the materials for an MRI system. Unless you would like to graciously make one for us."

"I wouldn't know where to begin. I don't even known how one works."

"Ah, yes." Zim cleared his throat, caught on a subject he knew very little about, "Well, it's a... A magnet."

"See, I don't know how magnets work."

Zim laughed because she knew he could not really explain how they worked, either. "Okay, let's just go out on a limb here and way that Tak's brain is still not as advanced as we like to think—and don't forget she'll kill us for thinking that. You should simplify—"

"And decrease function? What if she runs into someone like Dib, who barely understands regular Earth Morse Code to begin with? She can't limit herself to one way of communication, and even then, I could limit her to just English and Irken, sure, but then she'll never be able to do anything without someone with her anyway!"

"But if she can't use it, you'll have done off of this for nothing."

"Well, for me, this _was_ nothing. I've only put two hours into this, and Dad used to spend days pouring over an invention. So do you. I'll be shocked if this does work."

She had finished putting the babblefish chip in and laying out the circuitry. She slipped the back on temporarily to make sure it would all fit.

"Ah, yes," Zim was saying, "Come up with a better idea than me, and then rub my slow work pace in my face."

Then it was her turn to laugh, "Just turn around and let me access your PAK."

"No! You're always so _invasive._" Zim joked at he turned his back to her. She pried the center panel off. "I feel so violated, every time."

"Well, the language complex is pretty easy to get to, right?" Gaz asked. Her hairs found the tiny computer before her mind did, like they were being guided by static.

"I'll say it again, though; You can't make a computer that a mind can control. At least, not one as complex as this."

"Dude, Zim, I know." Gaz said as her hairs connected to the communicator she was making for Tak. "Chill. Nay-sayers didn't stop Galileo, did they?"

"You are no Galileo."

"The Wright Brothers, then." Gaz shot back, "How hush."

When Zim was completely silent, Gaz closed her eyes and let the information flow from one end of the line to the next. She knew it was an impressive sight, the lights pulsing up her hairs, going into her brain, and flowing out again as a computer program, into a second computer chip. It was even more impressive to _be_ her at that moment, because for about one minute, she knew flawless Irken. She could never really retain this information, though. She could focus her energy and learn possibly one more sentence to add to her rudimentary knowledge, but that would be it.

She could explain the actual physics behind this, but that would just be too strange. Her hair had an excess of silicone. That was all you ever need know. When it was done she disconnected first from Zim, then from the communicator, "I think it's done."

"Oh?"

"Well, okay, I have to screw on the back, but you know what I mean."

The back was the key to all of this. It had a special panel that was made to act as a receiver for all of Tak's brainwaves, regardless of what part of the brain they came from. With out that panel, the entire thing would fall flat, it would not matter how powerful or weak Tak's brain was, then.

"Okay, well, it looks like that's that."

"Try it out."

"Well, I can't, the default language is Irken." Gaz replied, "It won't work for me."

"Well, that's a shame." Zim muttered, "All right, hand it here, I'll try it."

He took it from her hands and Gaz was glad to have such a great guy around, one that would test out her inventions for her. She focused intently on the light that was supposed to flash, and eventually, it began to flicker faintly, then a little stronger.

_Does it work? Please tell me it works._

"Yes!" Gaz exclaimed bouncing in her seat, "Yes! It works!"

_Damn, she's so hot when she's pleased with herself._ Zim thought with a sly grin.

"But she'll have to work on controlling her thoughts." Gaz commented, "Your mind has become very public, Zim."

_Oh? Perhaps these dots and dashes are simply coincidence._

"If by coincidence you mean triumph, then, yes. It's a coincidence."

Zim took it off and said, "I don't think Tak's going to able to avoid speaking her mind now. Kind of ironic. I mean, if every little thing goes through, she's going to be an open book."

"Yeah. I should work on that, but I don't think I can really... do anything about it. I could all ways tell the computer 'share this, not that' but how would it know what to share and what not to? Keywords? Wouldn't that make her incapable of discussing said keywords?"

"Perhaps."

"Would we have a _code_ for negating that censor? You said so yourself this was getting too complicated."

"Square one?"

"Well, its not like I've poured hours of work into this. Still, I don't want to just let it go."

"Alright, perhaps it could shut off. I mean, I know that most races have brains capable of focusing on more than one subject at a time, but I don't think Tak's brain can. So, she'll just shut it off. It'll save power—"

"She wouldn't need too. It's powered by light and heat."

"Yes, but to keep her privacy, she would." Zim replied. How hard can an off switch be."

"Well, I'd have to take apart the entire thing." Gaz grumbled, picking up the screwdriver and taking the device from Zim's hand, "But, you're right, a power button probably wouldn't be too difficult."

"Besides, Tak would wind up Morse-ing her dreams, wouldn't she?"

"Probably not but that would be a fun experiment. How often does Tak sleep these days? As much as you?"

"I wouldn't know. She's only been back for a few days."

"Yeah." Gaz leaned back, slouching while she unscrewed the back panel, "Since I'm ready to leave, it's nice of Red to let her get used to herself here."

"Yes. Almost like he has a heart." Zim said, "Besides, you're not ready. You hardly speak a word of Irken."

"I'll just steal the knowledge from you." Gaz said, "I hook up to you, and I know every word of it."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It's... fascinating."

"Well, you should not let Red know that." Zim grumbled, "He'll make us leave. I don't want to. It's quite nice here."

"You're right. It is." Gaz said, moving on to the next screw, spinning it out just as lazily, "But I need to fix Mothercontrol."

"Oh, hang that electronic bitch."

Gaz chuckled.

"Zim is _serious._" He said, "If we do, we leave on our own. Only problem _then_ is we won't be able to come back here."

"Yes. Because you and I both know settling down is the first thing on your mind right now. We have nothing to settle down _for_ I'm not getting on in years and I don't think you are. Are you? Even then, you aren't the type to admit it, so we'll gallivant about the universe until you run yourself into your grave."

He slouched into her, draping an arm around her shoulders, "Don't say things like that."

"Why? It reminds you of how old and frail you really are?"

"No." He said, tapping a claw lovingly against her nose, "Suggesting that Zim is anything less than in peak condition is blasphemy."

"Oh, please." Gaz snorted, "I can't work if you smother me."

He let go, but she could tell by the look on his face he did not really want to. She was apparently the only thing that stood between him and thoughts of Red, "I wonder what he's going to do. He's got something planned, I just know it." Zim said, lacing his fingers and resting his elbows on his knees, "And I hate it."

"I'm not normally the hopeful one, but 'Maybe he won't'?" Gaz offered, "Just, you know, _maybe._"

"Maybe." Zim echoed, "I doubt it. He's got something planned."

"He hasn't given any indication. Aside from today, he's been on board the Massive. You don't think he's trying to lure us into a false sense of security, do you?"

"I'll just be he is."

"Maybe he's hiding away because he has no clue what to do."

"Don't be silly, Red always knows."

"Didn't you used to say that about yourself? How true did it turn out to be."

"Hmm. So very mature of you to say so."

She took off the back panel and started carefully removing each little piece of the whole. There was a little lazer on the table made for cutting and melting metal, and after tracing a small circle in the side, and making sure the power button would fit, she cut it, slipped the device inside, and welded it into place, then she re-fit everything inside around the starter switch, fit the back on again, and screwed it into place.

"Something like this really should have a panic button."

"Oh, now you're just being petty."

"Yes."

"And you're acting like there is a situation Tak can't get out of on her own. I'll make her a separate one, out of the tracking device in her PAK and some pretty little trinket Skoodge brings."

"Fair enough." Zim said, "Would you like to go out and find Tak right now? Or would you rather wait."

"Oh, wait. Wait a long time. She's seen it, so I'll just let her wonder for a while."

"Ah, you evil little temptress you."

"Sheesh, desperate much?" Gaz asked, pushing him away from her. He resisted the light shove (her heart was not really in it) and moved in again, managing to get both arms around her waist, pulling her too him, "Zim!" she said as commandingly as she could, "If there is anything that should not be done on a couch, it is _this. _A-at least, not when my _brother_ shares the house with us."

Zim laughed, "You can't tell me you don't like this."

She gripped the newly-completed device in her hand, as if it were some sort of talisman. Zim twirled a lock of hair around his claw, purring. He was right. She could not. He was only making it worse, too, cuddling her like that. Jerk.

"How is an alien that really shouldn't be interested—"

"You already know my opinions regarding the matter." Zim cut her off plainly, "And I refuse to let my philosophy be changed."

"_Fine! _Just not here."

With a sigh that was still more of a carnal growl, he got to his feet, smirking, tugging at her wrist. She wanted it, sure, just not in the middle of the day. There were other things she could do, day-time things, like mess around with that old television, and try to get cable without a service provider. Or mess around with a really powerful radio and try to get signal from Earth again.

And when she failed, she could tell herself it was because she was too far away, not because there was nothing to hear. Boo hoo. Very sad. Very believable.

She jerked her and out of his with a light flick of her wrist. He could bang his head against the wall for a few minutes and the frustration of being turned down would be gone. He was pretty persistent today. She managed to lose him by shrieking hysterically as she dodged an attempt to grab her, "Zim! Cut it out!"

"Oh, come on, Love Pig!"

"_Dude, I'm still here, you know!"_

"Ack!"

"Oh! Dib, you're still here?"Gaz asked, her face turning slightly pink, "Funny how we missed you with your big head."

"Not in the mood, Gaz!" he replied, "Besides, I've figured it out."

"Figured _what_ out?" She turned to the kitchen, then stood in the door frame, surveying the scene. It was quite a puzzle, really. Dib looked like he would eat half the food in his mouth if they let him, and if he had kept his mouth shut, they probably would have, simply by ignorance.

She was quite for a while, as if she expected him to suddenly gain one hundred pounds and explode. But he did not, and that was probably for the best because she did _not_ want to spend hours scraping him off the walls and then half to explain to _Tak_ what had happened.

"Oh, I'm a smart boy." Dib grumbled, "How could I forget basic physics at a time like this!"

Well, for a smart boy, he was not making a great deal of sense, but how articulate could you be when you were stuffing your face?

"W-what do you mean?"

"Do I look any skinnier to you?"

"Well, yeah, but you've been a little down lately." Gaz said. She was bluffing. He had never paid much attention to her brother's weight. She compared the image of him how to her memories. Before he had left home to go after Tak he had been pretty fit¸ not the tallest or the strongest but he had been a healthy weight. When he had returned he had been a great deal taller and stronger.

Compared to now?

Crap, he _had_ lost weight!

When? When had that happened? She stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. e He was as gaunt as Zim, it seemed. Not quite skin stretched over bone thin, but he had lost weight. A lot of weight. So much weight it was scary that she had failed to notice. Then again, she was never very observant or nosy. She had been intently focused on her own training that she had ignored him? Well, she was a lousy sister!

Was this mild depression? Dysthymia? Had he been eating less? She tried to remember and cursed herself because she could not.

"But you've haven't been eating any less." Zim remembered for her, "You have been losing weight."

"Why didn't you say something?" Gaz asked. She was ignored.

"Right." Dib answered, "I have super metabolism."

"That's crazy!"

"No. That's me." Dib shrugged, shoveling food in his mouth, "Okay, my powers aren't like yours... They're energy based. I thought that... That meant light, but that's _stupid,_ because I've got healing powers and light does not heal. But... But electricity _can_... Chemical reactions in the brain are brought about by electrical impulses, and those electrical impulses cause everything your body does. We're like batteries."

"Dib!" Gaz brought her hand to her forehead, "There's no real science in the Matrix!"

"So, that electricity? I can make it willingly, and that's where all of my powers come from, even the healing. I can give my cells the energy to divide really, _really_ fast... But uncontrolled, I convert more chemical energy than I need, and that creates excess electricity, which creates the glow... I can do that to _other_ people."

"And you have to eat like hell because energy cannot be created or destroyed?" Gaz asked.

"If I want to use my powers, yes."

"And just what the hell are we going to do when you eat everything in sight? Dib, I can't convert to photosynthesis you know."

"Neither can I, unfortunately, then I could use light energy. Zim, there's nothing you can do about that, is there?"

"No. Not Unless you want a solar panel stitched into your arm. In which case, that is your sister's department."

Dib laughed. He seemed genuinely excited about this. "But now that I know what it _is_ I can probably use them."

"Why didn't they tell you the principles behind them before?"

"That is an excellent question." Dib mumbled, "Gaz, did they ever explain yours?"

"Well, I know my hairs have a sort of fiber-optic cable principle thingy too them." She mumbled, taking a bit of her hair in her hand and twirling it. It did not feel like its chemical properties had changed. Maybe the oil just slid right off of it, but that was all she noticed. She was washing it less often now because it simply did not get dirty, at least, not because of the scalp.

Which was kind of bothersome because she still had to wash her _scalp_ and she wondered if every _other_ hair on her body could hook up to a computer. Yes. Really. She was not going to try because it was too short, but she _did_ wonder. Occasionally.

She was not half computer, but if what Dib said about humans running on electricity was true, she knew what he said about brain function and electrical impulses was correct, and that was essentially what a computer did, but instead of neurons it was circuits, or whatever, then the only thing that stood between the rest of the human population was genetically altered hair.

So... That was actually kind of _dull_ compared to what Dib had just described. Healing powers? By converting chemical energy in food to electrical energy to make your cells regenerate superfast? That? That was fucking hardcore.

What could she do? Bend computer programs and electronics to her will? That was... That was dull. Okay, okay, she _had_ diverted and deactivated nuclear missiles. That was something to brag about. That was pretty cool.

But, she felt that she could do so much more. She had been a shadowy _thing_ at one point. Where had that come from if the extent of her powers was that basic? She had killed a guy with the power of darkness. How? Where had that gone?

"Gaz?" Dib asked, "Hey, you alright?"

What if her powers operated on the same principle? She suddenly found herself laughing at the prospect. She could not risk the two of them devouring every scrap of food in the house. That would just be a waste!

But... _Did_ her powers include more than just electronics?

She stopped laughing and sat down, glaring at the kitchen table. Zim and Dib both stared at her for a while, curious. She suddenly felt cheated and lied too, like they had not told her because they feared universal destruction. They would probably just tell Dib the beginnings of his own abilities had he not already used them before. There was no lying to _him_ and saying he could not cause mass panic.

But they had not really screwed up with her yet. She had hampered a civilization, but it had not been very violent. At least, not the way she remembered it. Maybe it was a fluke that she had killed that agent. Maybe it had just been her and not her powers.

"What? What's wrong?" Zim asked, scooting closer to her.

Was there more to her powers than just sticking her hair in a circuit and learning everything she could for just a moment, then reprogramming the computer with her mind? How would something as simple as that come with red eyes and black skin?

"I... I think I need to... think about this." She eventually said, standing up.

She still had Tak's gift in her hands as she walked up the stairs to her room. She heard Zim's boots behind her, but she did not turn around to tell him to go away. If she really wanted him to leave her alone, she could always just close the door in his face, but what would that accomplish? He would get the message but he would stand outside of her door like a guard and it would bother her simply because he was just _standing_ there.

She let him in her room with her, and she sat down thoughtfully on the bed. He leaned against the dresser and frowned, "You're thinking."

"Yes."

"About what?"

"My powers."

"What? They aren't good enough?"

"Dib can fly. He can heal people. He can shoot light from his hands. My powers only involve tinkering with electronics and machinery. I'll admit it can be pretty useful if I ever seize control of every GPS in the galaxy, but it has no diversity. I feel like a one trick pony, or that I'm being deceived about my powers, and there's more they don't want me to know about."

"Oh." He crossed the room and sat down beside her, "I'll admit, what they've trained up here is a mere shadow—a fraction!—of what I found in the Swollen Eyeball Headquarters, but I have to tell you I like this better."

"Why?"

"I would never want you to go where I could not follow." he tucked his knees under his chin and focused his red eyes on her, "Probably because where I could not follow is the dimension of _more_ technopaths. And then you'll me a nice technopath boy and settle down and have a million technopath brats and you know how jealous I'd be."

"I'm being serious."

"Me too. I don't want to lose you." He replied, "Hell, losing _Dib_ would suck, too, but he's not as important to me as you are. Of course, you're _both_ important to me, but I do reserve the right to pick favorites, and you're a bit more cuddly."

"We'll you're nothing but a green-skinned teddy bear." Gaz replied, scooting closer. He began to lightly massage her scalp. She closed her eyes and leaned against her. Damn, that felt nice. They were silent for a while, until she eventually said, "I blacked out the first time I remember using them, the night Dad was murdered, so I don't really know what happened. It makes you wonder, I mean, I've blacked out _a lot_ of times in the past, did I use my powers without know it? I mean, the violent ones?"

"Not that I recall." Zim said.

"I mean, that guy was just two steps away from breaking out the Holy Water, I swear."

Zim laughed.

"I'm serious! He was! He called me a demon, but I'm pretty sure screwing around with programming isn't demonic in any way. Am I over thinking things?"

"You might be."

"If you knew something, you would tell me, right?"

"Of course."

"Because no one else really does any more and I like trusting you."

* * *

... We're getting there.


	39. Chapter 39

Meta-Morphine.

(Disclaimed.)

Uhhh, hi.

Don't tell me how long it's been. Please. I know. It's been a long time. I pulled an all-nighter to get this chapter up… BECAUSE IT STILL NEEDED MOAR!

IT'S NOT ENOUGH!

* * *

Chapter thirty nine: *why yes, I have stopped bothering to name them. They aren't children.*

Gaz lay stretched out on her stomach before him, her eyes closed and her hair fanned out around her. Zim let his claws lazily entwine with her hair as he slowly ran his fingers along her spine. She did not wake up, not at his light touch. He had gotten quite good at leaving her undisturbed. He curled a lock of long dark hair and let it flick against his skin. He broke out in chills at the touch.

She had Minimoose tucked under one slim, pale arm and if that was not cute he did not know what was. GIR and Mimi were somewhere around, either patrolling the perimeter or sitting on the ground level, scanning. There was nothing but peace and solitude around, he could lay down beside Gaz, stare at her until day break, feel like a creeper, and forget Red existed for a while.

But only for a while. He would remember soon enough. He could not remember his own race without recalling Red.

He heard footsteps, and he was certain it was Tak. Dib had resolved to sleep more, an admirable resolution for a human to make, they needed their sleep. He got to his feet, maybe he could attempt to communicate again.

He was surprised to see that it was not actually Tak, but her human charge, getting himself a glass of water. He heard the front door opening, and he stood back in the shadows, waiting. Tallest Red came in, floating in a non-committal way, neither here nor there. He saw the light on and he saw Alu, and he stopped.

"Human child—"

"It's Alu." He said, stepping away from the sink, "What do you need?"

"I need to speak with Tak."

Alu grinned with bitter mischievousness, and he swirled the glass of water like it was fine wine. Zim watched, amused, as the human child walked towards the kitchen door, as if to block it with his body, "Mom's been sleeping a lot since the change." Alu informed him, "I don't think she'd want to get up just to talk to _you_."

Red stammered for a bit, and gaped at Alu. Even Zim was intrigued, but it was cute, in away. Alu could not _really_ bar Red's entry into Tak's room, he just liked to pretend that he could.

"And I _know_ you wouldn't do anything to Mom that she wouldn't _like_, right?" he asked.

Very passive-aggressive little bastard, Zim thought with a smirk.

Red, miffed, told him plainly, "Tak is a superior being, and you will _not_ refer to her as your mother. You are a pet to her, nothing more. Pretending you are anything else is insulting to her and our ra —"

Alu splashed in the face with his water. [1.]

Zim, though he had no real investment, felt a little pride growing in his chest for Tak. She had certainly raised him right. He covered his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing at the scene of Red covering his face and moaning in pain as his skin steamed. Alu grinned triumphantly, and looked as if he fancied himself to be ten feet tall at the moment.

And Red?

Well, he could not do a damn thing!

Sure, he could pick him up and throttle him, but he still had a half-full glass, and if Red _did_ manage to kill him, Tak would either kill herself or him. Zim wondered if he should intervene for a moment, but he just stood there, his arms crossed. Red hissed in frustration and floated out the door. Alu stood there for a moment, watching the front door, then he went back and refilled his glass, smirking to himself.

Zim could have gone back into Gaz's room to stare at her more, or maybe close his eyes for the night to relax for a while, but he did not. He just stood there, waiting. Like something would happen if he did. And something _would_ happen. Alu would eventually come back to the stairs, notice him, and they would either be faced with a conversation or awkward silence.

While Zim did not see any immediate problems, he knew Tak would murder him if he kept her surrogate dirt child up all night. Although, now that he could _speak_ the surrogate dirt child in question probably had some fairly interesting things to say. Zim was interested in asking on or two things not even Tak knew, suddenly, like, who were his _real _parents? Were they really dead, or had Tak just kidnapped him?

What? Did she have sufficient reason to believe that she would be a better guardian for a human than his actual guardian? If so, he probably came from an abusive background.

Damned curiosity!

But that was the thing. _No one_ knew. Of course, no one _needed_ to know, and they would probably be much better off _not_ knowing. Maybe Tak knew. Zim was almost certain she did. Alu started to take his glass upstairs, and it was then then that the boy noticed him.

"Hey." He said, stopping short, "You saw that."

"Yeah."

"You don't think Tak would have wanted to talk to Red, do you?"

"What?" Zim found himself laughing, "No, of course not!"

He expected that to be the end of it, but Alu said plainly, "I'm not tired."

"You only think you aren't." Zim said, wishing he had his own parental mode to slip into, but he didn't, "Go upstairs and lie down and—"

"I know you never sleep."

"Yes, but—"

"You aren't human." He said, "I know."

He turned around again and sat down on the couch. Zim followed him and sat down in the chair opposite, and just stared at him. Neither one said a word, until Zim spoke hesitantly. "Uh, look—Kiddo."

"Don't talk down to me!"

Zim paused for a moment, then for lack of a better remark said, "Tak used to talk down to you."

"Tak... Tak's _different._" Alu grumbled, "She just does it because she knows it makes me feel special—"

"Then why can't I—"

"Because I don't need _everyone_ to make me feel special_._ Then, it stops being special and becomes annoying."

"Fine, fine. Alu—"

"I have a real name."

"Oh, what is it?"

Alu stopped short, and his eyes fixed on him, "I—I just said I had it. I never said I would tell you."

Zim laughed, "So, you've learned to talk! Now you need to learn to hold your tongue!"

His shocked glare became a very reproachful one. Zim stifled his laugh and looked away from him, resting his chin on his hand, "I guessed it reminds you of your past."

"I don't remember it." He said quickly. Too quickly. Normally, such a situation would have a long, honest pause.

"What? You don't remember your real parents?"

"My real parents?" he echoed. His lower lip trembled and his eyes fogged over, but he blinked and shook his head, "No. I don't remember."

What was it Tak had said, 'Cut out to be a space pirate?' Nonsense! He could not even lie about his own past! Zim leaned back and crossed his arms. He did not need to ask for clarification. Alu's shifty eyes and quaking shoulders revealed everything, "But Tak knows?"

"Yeah. Tak knows."

He was about to point out that there was no way that this could be true, and there was no way Alu could keep his secret past safe with a mute alien because she would soon be speaking again anyway. Also, that Alu was just a child and there was nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. But, he was not a _real_ psychologist. He reminded himself to tread lightly, because Alu _did_ have one advantage, and that was glass of water. Zim changed the subject, "So, when did you first find out Tak was an alien?"

"Oh..." he was lying again, "When we first met. At least, I knew she wasn't human."

"What did you think she was?"

He got nothing but shifty brown eye again, until Alu said, "She was pretty open about what she was, so she would just hang around without her disguise."

"Fasinating."

There was a chirping from the doorframe. They both turned and saw Tak standing there, her eyes drilling holes into Zim, before making her will known briefly by looking at the clock.

And that was the end of that. Tak took his hand and walked him up the stairs and Zim stayed below for a bit, wondering if Red would come back. He did not see why he would. _Zim_ would not return to a house for a least a week if someone in that house had splashed water on his face! By the Tallests, no!

He climbed the stairs himself, buried his face in Gaz's hair, and entered his half-sleep.

* * *

That morning, Red decided they were going to leave. It was not a great shock to Zim, after all, with the completion of Tak's communication device, Gaz had proved her mastery of anything with circuits. The house would remain, the others would remain, but the two of them would be gone.

He folded up the second to last uniform, and Gaz huffed angrily beside him, walking from her dresser to the bed, her case was right beside his. GIR was right between then, his legs swinging off the edge of the bed, without saying a word. A rarity for him about a year ago. Gaz was changing him without even trying.

"I don't want to go." Gaz hissed.

"You've never been able to pack calmly, have you?"

She looked at him, angrily, then shoved an unfolded shirt into her case. Zim chucked and folded it for her.

"Don't start _that_ again!" Gaz snipped, "Zim, stop folding for me!"

Zim kept folding, first her shirt, then a pair of her jeans, and resisted the urge to comment on how much nicer her clothes looked off of her. Gaz then picked up the luggage bag and moved it out of arm's reach, "I can fold, you know!"

"Yes, but you don't, my dear." The Irken replied, "You can pack more when you fold properly, you know."

"No." Gaz replied, "You can. You've got magic with luggage. If I could make a lazer that could disassemble my stuff into data, then _re-assemble_ it again, I'd become famous, you know. Of course, I also would not be able to do it, because I am limited to what is physically possible."

"Besides, you're already famous." He joked back.

"Indeed." Gaz mumbled, "I am."

She looked a little depressed then, "I don't really want to do this anymore, Zim."

"Why?" Zim asked, "Red has given you free reign over what you do with me afterwards."

"Yeah, but, Tak—" she picked up the communicator and turned it in her hands.

"Will be fine. She's got the three of us looking out for her, remember?"

Gaz glared at him. She _did_ remember, and that even with the three of them 'looking out for her' Tak was now mute, had wings that threatened to snag on everything, and was still feeling pressure from Red. Whatever they had done up until now, it had not seemed like it had been much help at all. Zim sat down beside her hand laid his hands over hers, fidgeting with the communicator, and her fingers stilled at once. She closed her eyes, leaning into his torso for a moment of tender relaxation. He began to toy with her hair, one hand still with hers around Tak's new communicator.

He eventually let her go, even though he could tell by her pheromones that she wanted him to stay and do more, it would do them no good to delay the enviable. It was time for them to leave this place, just for now.

He folded up his last uniform shirt (he only had three) and despite a glare of protest from Gaz, he started folding her clothes again.

Despite the mean look, she did not do anything to stop him.

When he was done with her clothes, he packed up her gameslave and the fresh sketchbook he had started. He thought briefly about the one he had given to Dexter, and where the boy had hidden it, because he had burned the other three, as well as the professor's notes on cloning. He frowned, thumbing through the notebook. He had lost a lot of good work that night. Most of it had been done with expert care and during the honeymoon phase, with special attention paid to the throws of infatuation.

He dropped the new sketchbook, and one more for the road, in with his uniforms, and then he zipped up the small case. It was good to have his backup plan, just in case Red pulled a fast one. Gaz zipped up her own case, and carried it across the hall to Tak's room. Zim and GIR followed. She knocked lightly on the door, and rolled the communicator in her hand while she waited for the door to be answered. It was Alu that answered it, not Tak.

"Hey, Auntie."

"Alu, look, Tak may be your mother, but I am not your aunt."

She was blushing. She liked being called Auntie. Zim smirked and leaned on the doorframe. Gaz left her case in the hallway and walked past Alu into Tak's room. Tak was folding up a freshly laundered teal sari, her wings neatly collapsed flat against her back. She had stopped wearing her uniforms completely these days, even if she had a set of them that were made to accommodate her wings. Zim was certain she saw them as symbols of her oppression, so she avoided them at all costs.

Or perhaps it was just another excuse to hang around in nothing but silk and gold. Oh well.

"This is for you." Gaz told her, holding out the electronic headpiece. Tak looked at it, and took it from her hands, then slipped it on her head, smiling.

_Thank you, Gaz. It is much appreciated. _

That... That was not something the old Tak would have said. At least, Zim did not think so. Tak was not that eloquent. The Irken female set the sari away in the drawer with the other unimaginable number she had already and from the laundry basket, she took out a matching blouse decorated with tiny mirrors and set it away, too. Zim watched her intently, with the device on, he would be able to tell what she was thinking.

Which was nothing, apparently, because the light did not blink.

Zim gritted his teeth and began to worry. Was that Red's angle? It had to be! The Tallests must have been guardians of some pretty high-order secret for generations upon generations, it would make sense. _Red himself_ was probably sitting on evidence and research that had been denied to Zim and the smaller Irkens sense the dawn of the PAK.

There was no way Tak could be a huge blank now. No. She had thoughts She had to, otherwise, the machine would register absolutely nothing and all of her work would have been for nothing!

"You can switch it on and off." Gaz explained, "Here."

She did not seem to notice the glaring evidence that Tak was now almost _empty-minded._ At least, she did not appear to notice. Zim continued to stare, and wondered if Red would use that to his advantage. Had _he_ been privy to that crucial information this entire time, and it was just now coming to light for everyone else.

"Tak?"

_What?_

So, she could respond, but what was on her mind every other time? It made no sense that there was nothing. "What are you thinking about?"

She stared at him for a moment, and nothing registered on the communicator. Either she was thinking nothing, or no one actively narrated their thoughts. Perhaps that was the case. Perhaps her thoughts were just going too fast. Yes, that was it.

_How dashing Alu will look in the__ garb of a space pirate. Fuck off, Zim. If you're disappointed that you won't get to know my every thought because you won't be able to use the same contraption on _Gaz—

"Tak! You wound me!"

-_Good. This means Dib will be disappointed by the same!_

"This wasn't a conspiracy."

_Don't be silly, Gaz, I don't suspect you of anything._ Tak smiled warmly, folding up a pair of narrow silk pants.

"You're bitter!" she said, "Tak, have you been bitter this entire week?"

_It is none of your concern._

"Tak, I know bitter." She said flatly, "I know you. You're bitter."

_Wouldn't you be?_

"Well, I suppose." Gaz stepped forward, "And I can't tell you not to be."

_I'm glad of that._

There was silence, Tak continued sorting her laundry. She was not upset with the knowledge that she would not be going, too. In fact, she seemed quite pleased, it was a sign that Red was leaving her alone for a while. She was not even upset that she would be alone in the house with _Dib. _She seemed slightly pleased by that, really. Zim was glad to see that the two were smoothing things out again.

Zim left them to their—Tak's—work and walked down to the living room, taking Gaz and his luggage with him. Dib was sitting on the couch, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, waiting on Gaz."

"She's talking with Tak."

"What?"

"Oh, you know, that thing she was working on." Zim said, "It was a communicator for Tak. You do understand Morse Code, right?"

"Of course I do." He said, standing up, "What's she saying?"

"This and that." Zim answered.

And Dib walked past him. Zim looked up at the ceiling, sighed, and walked up the stairs again. When he got to Tak's room, Dib had her hands in his and was smiling. She smiled back, softly, and they embraced each other. Gaz smiled and glanced towards Zim, then winked. He motioned for her to give the three of them a moment of privacy, and she did so.

"I just hope they remember to see us off." she said casually.

"Oh, they will." He draped an arm around her shoulders. She reached up and laced her fingers through his, "Alu's not going to just let us go. He's got some gloating to do."

"What?"

"Red came last night. Alu chased him off."

"Why would do he that? I thought he liked Red."

"Not anymore!" Zim smirked.

"And what was Red doing here?"

"Being Red." He wanted to talk to Tak."

"So we can assume he's thought of something now, hasn't gotten to use it, and he's pouting again?"

"If we don't see him again today, yes." Zim said, "He's biding his time so we don't find out what he's planning again and thwart him."

"So, we're ready to go?" Gaz asked, staring at their black cases.

"Yes."

"Shall we, then?" All enthusiasm was gone in her voice for a moment. She sighed heavily and tightened her grip on his hand, "Well, we have to find Minimoose, don't we?" she asked, looking down at GIR, who grinned brightly up at her. She let go of Zim's hand briefly and picked him up, holding him in her free arm.

"Minimoose should already be there. You'll be able to practice on them, won't you?"

"Yes."

"And should you get tired of them, I'll simply make another for you."

"Sweet. More toys." She said, picking up her case, "DIB! TAK! We're going now!"

There were rapid foot steps down the stairs, and soon the other three were there, ready to walk them down to the beaming site. Aside from the machine doing nothing when it should be registering _something_ still got go him. He could not imagine why it did, though, because he could not recall registering every little thought that had gone through Gaz's head.

Perhaps he just wanted to believe there was something different about Tak, something off, because if there was not, it would mean no change had overcome her, and that Red did not have an angle. Of course, if he did not, then there would be nothing to counteract on their part, which was for the best.

When they exited the house, they were swarmed with the others, all wishing them well down the trail to the designated beaming site, where Red and Purple were both waiting. Zim felt a certain sense of pride for Alu when he saw that Red's face was still damaged from his encounter with Alu. The well wishes continued, and his hand felt contaminated and hot from so much contact with humans, Gaz was embraced and kissed many times, and everyone smiled. Except when they looked at Red. When they did, he saw nothing but contempt in their eyes and a frown on their mouths. They did not share the same dislike for Purple, though. He had better skills with the public, of course. He always had.

They were standing in the Massive next, after everyone had finally cleared away and formed a well-wishing ring around them. Meekrob was just a green sphere below them.

* * *

Yeah, sorry guys. That was three weeks late several words short. I still have two papers to do, I know I'm behind, but you'll just have to wait for a while. Only one fic is far ahead enough to receive regular updates, so if anyone is familiar with Amnesia: Justine, they will just have to make do with my fic Amnesia: Clarice.

**Poodlebrain would also like me to point out that he is in fact a she. Of course, to me, she just looks like my computer screne and those little text bubbles in FFN's PM system.


	40. Chapter 40

Meta-Morphine

(Disclaimed.)

I don't know what chapter this even IS. Is this forty? WHO AM I? Where am I? Why am I sitting at a computer with a bunch of angry people screaming at me to write some fic named Meta-Morphine I don't remember jack shit about?

Ugh. Sorry. Maybe after this is done I'll take a break from the IZ fandom (Yes, another break!) I guess you may be happy to know that I'm batting around the idea of a sequel. None of these characters would be involved, though, Just a dude right now. On Earth. He's not even named yet.

I want to finish up Amnesia: Clarice and this before posting anything new, and I DO have other fics I want to start.

Anyway, I'm sorry, I love you all, and here you go:

* * *

Chapter forty:

"Two inches."

"What?"

"You've grown two inches since you boarded the ship. Two months." Zim clarified.

"Oh." Skoodge replied, "Cool."

"Not feeling under the weather?"

"Nope."

"That's good." Zim put away the syringe and Skoodge rolled down his sleeve again, "That makes, what, four inches taller total, or five? Five. It's five."

"_You_ seem under the weather." Skoodge told him flatly, "What's wrong?"

"It's been, about seven months now?"

"Oh, yeah, a little more than fourteen more years and you'll see Earth again." Skoodge sounded cheerful. He put on a zipper-tooth smile for a moment, and when he saw Zim was not going to catch on, he stopped, shrugged, and said, "Look, I'm sure everything going fine."

"What if there is a flaw in the shelters I built?"

No one could, in good conscience, dismiss that concern. They could not dismiss any potential flaw as the harrows of working under pressure, he could not say it would be okay because it was _expected_ for Zim to screw up. Skoodge said nothing. When he left, feeling a bit awkward because he had not been much help, Zim remained where he was seated, slouched over and leaning on the lab counter.

Well, the _best_ thing to do was to go see Gaz. He shut off the lights and locked the lab door behind him. Gaz would set him straight. He did not even _have_ a valid reason—okay, yes he _did_ but he should know better than to let one in a line of many failures bring him down. Of course, how many times had his actions and stupidity led to the destruction of an entire race? Surely this was not the _first_ time.

He should just stop thinking about it.

And that was not too difficult, considering Gaz was apparently making all unoccupied SIR units on the ship dance spastically. Zim stepped around a few who were spinning around on their backs in the hallway, but she must be able to use them as remote eyes, because they seemed to flock to him and shuffle about like a million tiny ravers, only to suddenly stop when he entered the hallway leading to their room. He found her sitting upright in a chair, eyes closed, radiating a little. She did not even so much as _twitch_ when the door opened. He pulled up another chair and waited for a moment, until he heard loud, distant swearing.

It sounded like it was coming from the bridge.

It must be Red.

He got up again and made his way there, to find that the SIR units had formed a mosh pit around the leader's robotic ankles. Well, anything that bothered Red while still allowing the ship to run smoothly was good enough for him. A little smile on his face, he crossed his arms and watched the spectacle. Purple seemed pleased, and the other were chuckling softly. Red, naturally, knew it was Gaz, and knew she was just working to spite him, so his face was darkening and his voice was cracking as he tried and failed to order the SIR units to stand down and return to their posts.

"You!"

He pointed directly at Zim and he jumped back.

"You tell her to stop or when she's done her job I'll throw her in the airl—"

"You _do_ realize I can hear and see through these things, don't you?" one of the sir units said. It must have been Gaz speaking, but it still sounded like a SIR's voice.

"Oh, talk_, _I can _talk_ through them, too." Another spoke.

"Ooooh, _multiple ones. _That's neat." She chose another SIR unit as her mouth piece, "I wonder—"

And then they started_ singing_ and dancing. It was the most monotone and disturbing thing Zim had seen all afternoon, and it was hell on his antenna. It felt like a train wreak was happening in his skull. Everyone seemed to be having the same reaction, covering their antenna and doubling over, cringing in pain.

Despite that, Zim laughed. "Gaz, those SIR units have jobs to do, you know. You really should stop."

"It's not like _they_ mind."

"Well, yes, but Red minds, and he's got the power to throw you in the brig. Although, I don't think the Massive _has_ a brig, but I still don't want to have to visit you in an isolation chamber."

"Fine."

As suddenly as they must have started, they stopped and filed out of the room in a single line, like ants. Zim stepped aside to let them pass the doorway, and the bridge was left with a strange, ringing silence. Red turned his back and said, "You are not needed here."

Zim, still fending off giggles and feeling much lighter, followed the SIR units until he had reached the right hallway, then he reunited with Gaz, who looked a little worn after her escapade, but she looked thoroughly pleased with herself, despite the dark under her eyes and the constant yawning.

"You really _shouldn't_ do that too much you know."

"It's just _Red _that I bother. Even if he _did_ throw me in the airlock, I could always just make the doors malfunction. I can easily break out of isolation, too. Red can't hurt me, because he only fights with technology. If he pulls a knife I'll just take control of the hand _with_ the knife." She stopped to think for a moment, then she grinned, "I could _easily _make your entire race my slaves."

"Yes, well, you'll have _me_, Gaz. And I suppose right now we should have the agreement that you can only control my PAK on Tuesdays."

"I can live with that."

"And suppose you're sleeping? I don't think you can use your powers in your sleep."

"Oh, that's true. Well, I can trust _you'll_ wake me."

"Of course," Zim clarified, "I was actually referring to physical exhaustion, not exactly what Red would do."

"Ah, well..." Gaz ran her fingers through her dark and got hung up on a stubborn knot. She frowned and raised her other hand to try to break it up, Zim reached back and his sharp claws made quick work of it. She let her hands drop and leaned against him, giving his free reign over her hair.

"Feeling alright?"

"Just a little tired; give me ten, maybe fifteen minutes." She yawned again, "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing in particular, really." He tried to sound casual, "I just got caught up in thinking about Earth."

"Oh, yes, I have found myself wondering about it from time to time." Gaz confessed. Her face fell, "I hope everyone's doing well, or, as well as they can be."

"Fourteen years."

"It didn't seem like such a long time when they first told me. The kids will be twenty nine."

"They will."

"How long have we been on this ship?"

"Two months."

"Oh, that long?" she asked. She rubbed her eyes, "Does not feel like it, does it?"

"No."

"Or maybe I've just forgotten how long two months really are. I suppose being on a spaceship so much I would learn to lose track of time."

Zim chuckled a bit.

"So, we'll be on Dirt, soon?" She asked.

"Twelve hours or so, maybe a little more."

"Maybe I _should_ sleep." Gaz joked casually. She looked more alert now, her light brown eyes aglow. She turned to him, "I had been pretty much frozen the first time, if you recall."

"I do."

"You know, I don't think I've actually seen dirt from a distance. Have I?"

"No, I suppose you haven't. It's not very exciting. It's just dirt—quite literally, of course, we should be getting up to it, so perhaps we could see it from the front windows, in the cafeteria just below the bridge."

"That would be a nice."

Gaz looked strange and out-of-place on board the ship. The hallways were large enough for her (not for _her_ exactly, but for the Tallests, who rarely came down to the crew's mess hall) but it was the light. The Irkens saw best in red light, it relaxed them, put them in the mood to eat and rest, where as white made them tense and alert. The exterior hallways were lit with white light, so that any irken walking through them (and there were plenty) would see incoming threats just as quickly as the radar could. They even flickered slightly, constantly bugging him, so Zim could see planets revolving around even the furthest stars. She could not, but she could still see the stars.

He could just barely see her sun from this distance. He knew she could not, so he did not say anything about it.

The passageways leading to the dining halls and the rest areas were all lit with red lights, they turned Gaz a strange shade of orange, and her hair an almost unattractive maroon. He looked down at his hand, it had turned an odd shade of brown. Red really probably not the best light for him, either.

He and Gaz waded through the sea of dining Irkens and he had never before felt like such a giant. Judging from Gaz's face, she felt exactly the same way. They took the stairs to the upper balcony two at a time, because the steps were so small taking them one at a time just felt silly. The lights there were white, like the outward-facing hallways, with a sheet of clear glass before them and a panel of red at their backs, and it stretched all the up and down, sharing its ceiling with the floor of the bridge, and its floor with the ceiling of the cargo bay. The only entrance was through the dining hall, and it was not the safest place to be.

It was a tight, almost romantic, squeeze, considering it was made for Irkens, but soon the two of them were standing side-by-side looking out into an endless expanse of black, without the levels above or below obstructing their view of endless blackness and stars.

Gaz frowned, "Zim, you liar, I see nothing."

"Oh. Right. You're human. Here, hack into my PAK—"

She laughed, "I don't think it's Tuesday yet—"

"I'll make an exception."

Gaz casually placed her hand on his back, saying, "Well, I don't see why it—Holy _SHIT_! Is this how you see things out here?"

She must be seeing the planets around the stars now, seeing the trees and not the forest, so to speak.

"I'm looking right at it. It's that large, very boring brown dot."

"Oh. I see it. It _is_ boring. Hey! Look at _that!"_

"AH!" Suddenly, his entire head turned upwards and he was looking at a comet shooting by. He had seen several in his lifetime, but this must have been the first time she had seen one like this. It was like looking through a lower-grade telescope, perhaps, "Well, if you leave me absolutely no choice."

This was why he did not like her messing around in his PAK. He felt like a puppet.

She kept using him to look at various things until she had seen everything she could. It was about an hour later and Zim _swore_ she had made him pull a muscle in his neck, but he did not say anything, because she was so covertly thrilled by this, and as much as she tried to hide it, he knew. She was just radiating excitement.

And it _was_ an exciting thing for a human, to be able to see in such detail. It was only out in space, though. Once he was back in the real world, he saw things pretty much just as she did. He could see Ultra violet light, and that was only difference. He would let her discover that on her own.

"Twelve hours, huh?" Gaz asked, "I should turn in for a while."

She rested her head on his shoulder as the two walked back through the red hallways and into the white-lit one overlooking the void. She placed her hand on his PAK and he felt her jump in at once, right back to his eyes, "It _is_ pretty," she confessed, "When you're seeing it like this. I had never thought much of stars before, you know."

"Really."

"No. Just little dots, but this... well_ this_ is something else entirely."

She waved her hand to the clear panels and Zim saw that her eyes were closed. It would make sense. Her eyes had received no upgrade, she would be seeing double if she did not close her eyes.

"Don't you think you should stop?" he asked, "I mean, the shenanigans with the SIR units already did a number on you.

"That's true." Gaz shrugged. She removed her hand and it was like some crucial part of his electronics had been pulled away with it, "But I'll have about forty-eight hours to sleep."

"Don't you think—just this once?—you should study for a bit? Review what you have to do?"

"Zim, the thing is, I don't even know what I did the _first_ time!" she reminded him, "So, really I should just be prepared for anything, and you know the best way to do that is to prepare for nothing."

She was right. Sort of.

And they had come this far already. It _was_ too late in the game for failure. Of course, he knew just as well as anyone that it did not matter how close you were, there was always a chance of failure.

By the time Gaz had fallen asleep, she really only had nine hours to rest up, and then the real trouble would start.

Getting to Dirt is damn near impossible. Zim remembered that from the last time. Surrounding the planet was—of course—a ring of dirt stretching from pole to pole. Just, a cloud of it, not quite in the atmosphere, but close enough to count. It filled the sensors and scrambled sonar. It would have been a simple matter of steering the ship straight, but the dust cloud was dense and expansive, so say the very least. There is no accurate measure of _how_ thick, exactly, because the particles were constantly in motion, pulled in orbit by Dirt's gravitational field. They were constantly churned as well by asteroids and other natural satellites hidden in the dense cloud. These varied in size to small enough to lodge in a vent and make the ship explode to ploughing into the massive and making a side buckle, leaving at least a hundred soldiers to be sucked into the dusty void. It was easier to go through in a smaller vessel, which would be tossed about by the asteroids like a ship in a bad storm, and eventually make it through.

In the Massive?

Well, just thinking about it, Zim now knew what it felt like to be a very large fish in a laughably small barrel.

Of course, it was only 'damn near' impossible. It was not 'completely' impossible. It was just a might foolhardy to attempt, and perhaps tedious and risky. Manning the fighter ships and sending them out as an escort for the shuttle was a much better alternative, which, thankfully, was exactly what Red and Purple planned on doing from the very start of the voyage.

So he just had to play solitaire. For nine hours. It would take another four, maybe three, to get through the cloud of dirt, and then it would take maybe thirty minutes, or an entire day, if they were unlucky, to find a safe place to land. The storms were horrible on Dirt, powerful enough to take off skin, sometimes. They only got really bad once every four of five months, of course, this could just _be_ the fourth of fifth month. There was just no telling.

Zim shuffled the cards again and looked at Gaz. He had gotten too good at solitaire.

"Squeak."

"I don't know what I'm worried about." Zim confessed softly, "I really don't. She's always pulled through."

"Squeak."

Zim could not think of anything to say back to that, so he just resumed shuffling, not playing, just shuffling, and instead he tried to busy himself with figuring out all of the possible combinations he could come up with just one deck of cards and how many solutions he could—

Gaz, always the perfect distraction, turned over in her sleep. She may have interrupted his thoughts, but he did not really mind too much. Face it, statistics just paled in comparison to her, even when she was _sleeping_. She stirred again, but did not wake, fading from one state of sleep to the next. He set the cards down and left the room, because he knew that Gaz knew better than to fly into a panic when she woke up and he was gone. The first place she usually looked for him was his lab, but Zim found himself in the library, and he wondered how far down on her "places he might be" list. He would find out soon enough.

He killed a significant amount of time simply trying to find something to kill time with. It dawned on him that he really _was_ far gone if he could not even find a book, of course, he realized right after that Irken literature had gone downhill eons ago, so not only was he restless, he was also an _idiot_. He might as well just read the history of_ bricks_.

Well, he had four hours now. He feet hurt and he felt like a moron, but he had nothing _better_ to do.

"I have too much free time." He told the door to his cabin, "I have way too much free time."

"Squeak." The door replied.

Or, Minimoose, but he was in no mood to be specific.

What distressed him even _more_ was when he sat down to draw yet another picture of Gaz sleeping (he really did just do that to pass the time, he often crumpled them up and threw them away when she woke) was that he did not want to. His pen hovered above the page, he thought about drawing, but he could not bring himself to do it.

It was not that he did not want to (well, there was no real want, but no strong aversion) and it was not that Gaz even cared if he did. He just could not find it in himself to care, and that was almost distressing. Almost. He was too restless to be properly distressed.

And he did not even care if that made any sense or not.

"I'm worried." He confessed.

And at this point going into his office and shooting pencils into a cup really seemed like the best option, but he did not exactly want to do _that_ either. He rested his chin on his hand and sighed heavily, then he gave up, kicked off his boots, and stretched out beside Gaz. He did not close his eyes at first. He just laced his fingers behind his head and watched the ceiling for twenty, maybe thirty minutes, and then he zoned out.

"Squeak."

"Zim." Purple's voice grabbed him and pulled him back, "Come on, its time."

"What?"

"The shuttle." He answered, pulling him to his feet, giving him a little slap, and stepping back, "It's time to go."

"So soon?"

He did not answer.

Zim gave Gaz a shake and her eyes opened at once and focused on him. He nodded towards Purple and the door as he pulled on his boots again. She seemed to understand. She crawled out of bed and splashed water on her face, grumbling about how she was groggy not and sleep and been and terrible idea. She raked her fingers through her hair, and Zim distinctly heard her say, "Fuck the brush, let's go."

They followed Purple down the docking bay, which still looked a little shabby. Zim frowned. Reminders f what had happened on earth still seemed to be everywhere. Were they going to send them down in the very same medical shuttle that Dib had been brought back in?

Well, he hardly remembered what it looked like.

Theirs was a thin, fast craft, that fit Zim, Gaz, the Tallests, and a medical team of two. Zim did not know _why_ exactly they brought such a small medical team. If emergency treatment was necessary, it was a _big_ emergency, much more than just two doctors could handle.

He had miscalculated the time. It took about two hours to drift through the dirt, and it was fairly easy to find an access elevator to the planet's core. Perhaps they had done a little work behind his back. It was not surprising. Finally, all the dirt made sense. It had been shuffled around by janitorial squads for ages, hiding the entrances inside, now, of course, there was no need to hide it.

He went down first with Gaz. The elevator was a tight fit, so many Irken things _were_ a tight fit for him now. It dropped quickly, the blood rushed to their heads and Gaz's skirt flew up. A little flicker in his eye, he smoothed it down for her. It was the first thing he had been enthusiastic about in a while.

It was smaller than he had remembered it. Maybe it was smaller than Gaz had remembered it. Of course, when Zim looked at Invader Tenn siting at the table, she was so small, and it was so small, everything seemed bigger, but he looked away from her again, and towards Gaz, who was rolling up her sleeves and walking towards Mothercontrol.

It took up an entire wall, with just one keyboard and one screen. Or, maybe it was actually very small and it just _looked_ big. It was so much smaller now, just like everything else. It was strange to be standing there. Hell, it was horrible. He had nearly been killed here. _Dib_ had nearly been killed here.

"Hello again." Gaz said to the monitor, hands on her hips, "What seems to be the problem?"

Then, plain as day, a raspy, tough little girl's voice responded, "Go away. I'm in the Zone."

* * *

If I say but one thing on the changes that have occurred on this site in my absence, let it be this:

Now that our profile pictures are featured next to our fics, I have the overwhelming urge to take a picture in a bright green swimsuit and see if it has an impact on reader input.

I'm not serious. A picture of cheddar biscuits is curious enough.


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